


the race is on (and here comes pride in the backstretch)

by thunderylee



Category: KAT-TUN (Band), NewS (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, Facial, M/M, Multi, Romance, Sexting, Threesome - M/M/M, akamapi, dominant submissive, pet roleplay, snowball - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-25
Updated: 2010-01-25
Packaged: 2019-01-31 03:29:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12667317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Yamapi and Kame have always been a bit competitive, but this time they’ve upped the stakes.





	the race is on (and here comes pride in the backstretch)

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

> **Sometime Last Fall**

The door of KAT-TUN’s meeting room bangs open, and neither of the six occupants appear to be disturbed.

But since it’s Yamapi, Maru gives a halfhearted wave and Koki nods up. Jin doesn’t open his eyes, but Yamapi just saw him an hour ago when they had breakfast together so he’s not (that) offended.

However… “Kamenashi,” Yamapi booms importantly, with the air of a leader KAT-TUN has never known. “I just got the news.”

Without looking up from his samurai novella, Kame _smirks_ and Yamapi realizes just how much they’ve grown up.

“I look forward to competing with you,” Kame says evenly as he flips a page. Yamapi watches his eyes scan the words and wonders how he can read and be snarky at the same time. “I’d propose a friendly bet, but it wouldn’t really be fair.”

“Why is that?” Yamapi asks in interest. “We haven’t both had a drama airing in the same season before.”

Jin snorts. “Besides, you have no reason to be cocky, _Shizuku_.”

“Suck it,” Kame says carelessly. “I have two other Johnnies in my drama, plus it’s a manga remake. It will _easily_ triumph over a _sequel_ with just your pretty face to keep it afloat.”

“I’ll be sure to tell Erika-chan you feel that way,” Yamapi points out, and Kame only twitches a little. “If you are so confident, then you should have no problem making such a bet.”

“Not at all,” Kame replies, finally looking away from his book and offering Yamapi a fake idol smile. “I’m just worried about you losing for nine weeks straight. And to be honest, you have nothing that I want.”

Yamapi leans against the wall, eyes staring unseeingly in the distance. His game face. “Oh, but I think I do. Everyone wants a slave, right?”

_Everyone’s_ head perks up at that. Yamapi had said the magic word, it seems, and even Maru is tilting his head in interest. Yamapi will have to watch out for that one.

Then Kame’s face falls in disappointment. “As tempting as it is to have you wax my linoleum, I know you don’t have the time to devote to make it worth my while.”

“You’re right,” Yamapi replies. “Which is why we will choose a unbiased third party to act in lieu of our busy and important selves.”

Kame raises a thin eyebrow. “We’re going to bet on _another person_ to be my slave? I hope you’re not offering up Kato again, he just grudgingly does what he’s told. What’s the fun in that?”

“It’ll be Jin,” Yamapi says clearly.

Jin just hrmphs. “I’m totally biased. Pi wins, stupid juvenile race over.”

“Your drama airs on Fridays, right?” Yamapi asks Kame, paying no attention to his roommate. “We should know the ratings by Saturday afternoon, so let’s just say sunset on Saturday to sunrise on Sunday.”

Kame appears to be considering it, but Yamapi already saw acceptance in his eyes the minute he mentioned the name of their bet. “Sounds good.”

“Excuse me,” Jin raises his voice to annoying-customer level. “You are both forgetting that I will be promoting a _movie_ and preparing for a _solo concert_ when your little rival dramas are airing.”

“Then you better adjust your schedule accordingly,” Yamapi tells him, keeping his gaze locked with Kame.

Kame lifts his chin and gives him a smug look. A sealed deal.

“Good luck with your activities,” Yamapi tells them all. “I have a show of my own solo concert tonight, so I need to go now. Jin, don’t forget to pick up dog food.”

“Aye-aye,” Jin mumbles with a sarcastic salute.

_Good slave_ , Yamapi thinks as he leaves.

> **Week One**

It’s well into the afternoon by the time Yamapi has a chance to look at his phone, which is coupled with stuffing his face. He’s careful not to get any food on his scrubs as he scrolls through his messages, in a hurry to check the board for YamaNade’s debut ratings last night.

He doesn’t have to anymore after he sees _I HATE YOU AND YOUR STUPID PRETTY FACE_ from “Shuuji-kun.”

“What are you grinning about?” Toda Erika asks playfully, flipping Yamapi’s hair as she sits down with her own lunch. “You look like the cat that got the cream.”

“You could say that,” Yamapi replies, proudly displaying the mail from Kame. “We have a friendly competition going on.”

Erika pauses with her chopsticks to her mouth. “Dare I ask the terms?”

“Let’s just say that I won’t have to lift a finger tonight,” Yamapi tells her with a wink.

He laughs at Erika’s disgusted face. “I’m _eating_ , Tomo-kun.”

“I don’t know what _you_ are thinking, dirty girl,” Yamapi teases her, “but I was referring to household chores and a pot of authentic one-fourth Italian spaghetti.”

“Yeah, okay,” Erika scoffs, and Yamapi gives up trying to put on a front. This one has been around them too long for it to work. “I’m kind of amazed that we beat out YamaNade, though. I watched it last night and it’s nothing but gay, gay, gay.”

Yamapi shrugs. “I don’t question these things. Especially when I win.”

“Enjoy your spaghetti,” Erika says with a knowing look. “Don’t eat too much.”

It could _never_ be too much, Yamapi thinks as they finish filming and he returns home just in time for sunset.

Jin’s waiting for him on the couch, his face expressionless. “I won’t call you Pi-sama.”

“You seem oddly cooperative,” Yamapi assesses as he hangs up his coat. “And ‘Tomohisa’ will do.”

“Better you than Kame,” Jin grumbles. “Even though the opening night of my movie beat _both_ of yours, almost combined.”

Yamapi chuckles as he sits down next to Jin. “Since this is the first of nine long nights under my command, I’ll go easy on you. Dinner and an English-movie translated, then a backrub as I go to sleep. I’ll even let you pick the movie.”

Jin huffs, but he’s hiding a smile as he heaves himself up and disappears into the kitchen. “We’re watching something with fast cars and hot women.”

“Fine with me,” Yamapi replies. Those kinds of movies usually have a sex scene, and Yamapi’s looking forward to hearing Jin fumble over his words. It’s cute the way the man who sells sex everyday can’t say those kinds of things in Japanese without blushing. Jin’s a lot more conservative than people give him credit for.

An hour later, Yamapi has his plate of spaghetti which is almost empty and Jin’s already started the movie, his voice lively and even as he repeats everything said and written on the screen. He’s gotten better, faster, Yamapi notes as Jin only has to pause the movie twice to explain a phrase or situation that requires elaboration. It helps that Yamapi’s been studying English too, but Jin’s is much more natural and it’s more relaxing for Yamapi to just listen to him than try to figure out complex grammar in his head. Plus, Jin translates the English slang by using Japanese slang and it’s amusing, yet accurate.

Yamapi’s full belly plus his long day has his eyes drifting shut long before he would like, his head gravitating to Jin’s shoulder as he fights to stay awake and appreciate Jin’s hard work. It’s Jin’s voice that inevitably lulls him to sleep, though, ironically after a quasi-love scene where the hero seduces the heroine with lines like “We only have tonight” and rushed assessments about working off adrenaline. Yamapi thinks that’s a lot of unnecessary justification to just have sex, which he files away to mention after the movie’s over, or in this case whenever he wakes up.

The next thing he knows, a hard squeeze of his shoulder blade has him stirring, the ending song booming through Jin’s surround sound as the credits undoubtedly roll on the screen. “Mm,” he mumbles sleepily, arching into the touch.

“I didn’t notice you fell asleep,” Jin says in a low voice, speaking into his hair as he continues massaging Yamapi’s shoulder one-handed. “I hope it still counts.”

Jin’s tone is apologetic and Yamapi remembers the terms of their evening, offering a brief shake of his head to show that he’s not fussy about the technicalities. “Feels good.”

He almost feels Jin smiling against his scalp, rubbing the bone and muscle that Yamapi hadn’t known were sore until right now. He tries to turn so that Jin can get his whole back, but his head ends up slipping off of Jin’s shoulder and he falls across Jin’s lap, face-first into the couch cushion.

Jin just laughs. “Come on, Aizawa-sensei, let’s go to bed.”

Yamapi can’t deny that it’s nice to have someone dote on him like this, to practically pick him up and carry him down the hall even if it’s more of a mutual maneuvering because he’s too big for Jin to lift anymore. He’s unfazed by Jin’s hands on his belt or the fastenings of his jeans, which are quickly replaced by sweatpants because it’s ridiculously cold outside and their heater works a little _too_ well, making the air too stuffy to breathe. Yamapi’s tumbling into bed before it occurs to him that he hasn’t opened his eyes this whole time, blindly allowing Jin to guide him and trusting him to take care of him despite being the object of a stupid bet.

“Thanks,” he says, his words muffled by the pillow because he’s laying on his stomach while strong hands work on his back.

“Just keep winning,” Jin whispers. “I don’t mind being like this for you.”

This time it’s Jin’s touch that lures him back to sleep, and when he wakes it’s way past sunrise, yet a heavy arm is slung around his waist and curled up against his chest, a firm weight pressed against him from behind.

As he wakes up, he feels a smile form on his face and feels like he won more than just a stupid bet.

> **Week Two**

“Kamenashi-kun is getting bitchy,” Tegoshi informs Yamapi over their impromptu lunch meeting the following Saturday.

Yamapi gives him an odd look, and Tegoshi takes a bite before amending, “Bitchi _er_.”

“Sore loser,” Yamapi says fondly, smiling as he recalls the ratings for their second episodes. “And to think, this was all his idea!”

Tegoshi beams. “I’m glad Leader’s boring medical drama is so popular~”

“Hey,” Yamapi berates. “It may be boring, but it has an all-star cast.”

“What am I, then?” Tegoshi asks, faking a pout. “A meteorite?”

Yamapi snorts. “We are not competing, Tego-nyan.”

“Good, because I definitely do not want Akanishi for a night.” Tegoshi makes a face at the thought. “Shige is much more pleasant to be around.”

Yamapi returns his attention to his lunch, eating happily as he wonders what he’ll make Jin do tonight. Then his phone goes off and he’s struck with the realization that they may have actually gotten their BFF telepathy to work as Jin mails him with the exact same question.

Their refrigerator could use cleaning out, along with a bunch of other chores that Yamapi’s been putting off. Like his laundry, and possibly paying some bills. He’s thinking out loud, relaying all of this to Tegoshi who just nods and asks, “What will he be wearing?”

It’s a valid question, and Yamapi ponders the thought of Jin carrying a clothes basket in a dress before bursting out into laughter. Then he remembers what Jin actually looks like in drag and freezes, a little too approving of the idea.

When he gets home, late due to a meeting after filming, the washer is going and Jin’s crouched in front of the fridge, frowning at something he’d unearthed from the very back. His hair is up in a messy ponytail and he’s only clad in a wifebeater and low-rise track pants despite the cold weather. There’s a hint of sweat on his bare forehead that sparkles in the refrigerator light and that’s when Yamapi notices that the entire rest of their apartment is spotless.

Yamapi skates across the freshly-polished linoleum in his socks and braces his hands on Jin’s shoulders to halt himself. “You certainly were ambitious tonight.”

“If you’re going to make me do bullshit cleaning, I may as well do it all at once,” Jin says. “Now if you don’t mind, my fucking back hurts, so could you please get off it? I’m almost done.”

Now Yamapi is the one who frowns, standing up straight and heading to the bathroom for a bath. He’s nearly blinded by the sparkling porcelain that reflects the light several times over, a brand-new shower curtain he doesn’t remember buying, and pleasant-smelling, fluffy towels. If it wasn’t for the fact that Jin had broken a sweat in negative-degree temperature, Yamapi would think that either of their mothers had come over and cleaned.

He’s careful not to make a mess as he bathes, soaking into the hot water with a satisfied sigh as he becomes warm and comfortable. Lazily he washes his hair and relaxes, feeling at ease in his clean apartment with his clean body and successful career. Something is nagging at him, though, something that he can’t put his finger on until it knocks on the door.

“Are you almost done?” Jin calls out, his voice flat. “I really need a bath.”

Yamapi’s face lights up as the chance to complete his evening dangles itself in front of him. “Come in,” he says back. “I can share.”

It’s a credit to how exhausted Jin is that he doesn’t argue, just slumps through the door and starts taking off his clothes. He’s looking worse for wear, his grip slipping as he tries to pull up his shirt, and Yamapi considers jumping up and helping him until Jin manages to fling it across the room. The rest drops to the floor and Jin almost trips over his pants as he crawls into the tub, immediately settling in the opposite end from Yamapi and leaning his head against the rail as his breath leaves him in a content exhale.

“Thanks,” Jin mumbles, his feet bumping Yamapi’s as he tries to stretch out. “I had a double choreography session today, one for KAT-TUN’s new single and one for my solocon, so I’m sorry if I have a bad attitude tonight.”

“You could have said something,” Yamapi says guiltily, playing with his fingers under the water. _You could have refused._

Jin chuckles. “It’s only going to get worse, so I may as well get the manual labor out of the way early.” He opens his eyes and offers a comforting look. “The place needed it anyway.”

“Come here,” Yamapi says automatically. “I’ll wash your hair.”

“Don’t want to move,” Jin whines. “Do it over here.”

“Don’t argue, slave,” Yamapi shoots back. “Come here or go without.”

There’s a lot of grumbling and moaning, but Jin manages to turn around enough to suffice. Yamapi grabs him by the hips and slowly pulls him back, being careful with his waist, until Jin’s practically laying between Yamapi’s legs with his back to Yamapi’s chest. He doesn’t have the heart to make him sit up, just slings his arms around Jin in some semblance of an embrace as Jin turns his head and leans his face right over Yamapi’s heart.

Yamapi leans down to press his nose in Jin’s hair and immediately regrets it. He makes a noise of disgust and Jin laughs, reaching back to poke him in the side until Yamapi shoves him up out of spite. He hunches over as Yamapi rushes to wash his hair, taking extra time to massage the shampoo and conditioner into Jin’s scalp because he knows it feels good. Once clean, Yamapi drops his hands to Jin’s shoulders and nearly jumps at the long, deep groan that draws from Jin’s throat.

“Isn’t this a little backwards?” Jin jokes, his head falling back as Yamapi rubs along his spine and has him arching.

Yamapi says nothing, because he can’t think of a way to say “I can’t be happy if you’re not happy” without it meaning more than it should.

As he’s pulled into Jin’s bed after a replay of last week, only reversed, Yamapi decides that may not be such a bad thing.

> **Week Three**

“Do you think it’s possible to gradually fall in love with your best friend?” Yamapi asks seriously, holding his phone close to his mouth to keep from raising his voice.

Ryo pauses. “Pi, I like you, but I don’t _like_ you.”

“Not you, asshole,” Yamapi hisses, offering Erika a half-wave as she passes by.

“Tell Nishikido-kun I said hi,” she whispers.

“Erika says hi,” Yamapi relays.

“Do I really have to sit here and discuss your Jin-gay on my day off?” Ryo asks bitterly. “You guys aren’t the only busy ones, you know.”

Yamapi reads between the lines. “Ah! So it _does_ exist.”

Ryo hangs up on him, and Yamapi feels that is as good as a confirmation.

“You look lost,” Erika comments, and Yamapi jumps because he didn’t know she was still there. “Something on your mind?”

“Actually, I…” Yamapi trails off, then swallows. “I found it.”

Erika just smiles, pats him on the shoulder and starts to head back to the set. “Good luck getting it!”

Yamapi nods, uncaring whether she actually knows what he’s talking about or not as he opens a new message on his phone to do exactly that. He has Jin’s address entered and the cursor mocks him, his brain rejecting everything his heart wants to say because he doesn’t think it’s right to confess in text. _Let’s go out to dinner, somewhere nice and snooty_ , he types, knowing that Jin will be just as annoyed at dressing up and probably insist on wearing a ponytail with a suit.

Yamapi is strangely not opposed to the idea. He’s thinking about whether he wants Jin in pinstripe or all black when his phone beeps again, and all fashion decisions are put on hold as his heart jumps out of his chest at the response.

_You didn’t check the ratings, did you? I’m Kame’s tonight._

An irrational anger takes over Yamapi’s brain and his hands start to shake with the effort to keep from smashing his phone into the wall. He’s more than just jealous, he’s _livid_ with visions of curbing Kame’s face if he even thinks about touching his Jin. Never mind that Yamapi hasn’t actually touched Jin yet, but even their close behavior lately is something that Yamapi wouldn’t want him doing with anyone else.

He considers dragging Ryo out for a drink, but even he knows that not a good idea. Liquor and anger don’t mix, he learned that a long time ago, and so he calls upon the one person he knows who shoots rainbows from his smile alone.

“Yamapi!” Koyama squeals happily upon hearing his voice over the phone. “I would love to hang out tonight, but I have to work. We’re filming Shokura with KAT-TUN. Everyone’s here already, I hear them rehearsing. I don’t think they would mind if you showed up? Akanishi-kun could use a friend, I think. Kamenashi-kun has been unnecessarily bossy to him since the sun went down.”

Yamapi’s eyes narrow, the hand that isn’t holding the phone squeezing into fist after fist. “I’ll pass, I have to get up early tomorrow.”

It’s a blatant lie, which turns out to be a good thing because Yamapi keeps himself awake all night with visions of Kame with Jin, going far beyond the friendly intimacy that Yamapi’s experienced with him. He gets even angrier when he realizes that the thought arouses him, leading him to a great internal debate that lasts a total of fifteen seconds before he gives in and drifts his hand down between his legs.

The idea is a lot more tolerable with his fingers wrapped around his cock, impossibly hard at the visions of Jin’s cheeks hollowing around Kame’s own erection, the tight skin of which shines with Jin’s saliva as he rocks back to tongue the tip. Of course Kame would be the one to make Jin be on his knees but only until he came, until Jin took advantage of Kame’s satisfied state to pull him down, distract him with his mouth as his fingers slipped between Kame’s legs and-

Yamapi’s coming before he can even finish his fantasy, surprising himself by arching and thrusting into his own hand, his release going anywhere it pleased due to his carelessness. His first conscious thought upon returning to this plane of reality is that he probably shouldn’t make Jin wash his sheets, not that he could make Jin do anything until a week from now at the earliest, and that’s only if his drama comes back out on top.

Laundry is something to do at five in the morning, the vibrations helping him think as he sits on the washing machine and waits for Jin to come home. It’s nearing sunrise, his delusion increasing with each ray of light that peeks over the horizon and through the balcony windows, and he nearly has a heart attack when he hears a crash by the front door. He only trips twice on his way to the ruckus, where a Jin-shaped lump is laying halfway through the door, his legs sticking out into the hallway where Kame stands with one hand on his hip and a steaming sytrofoam cup in the other.

“Carting his drunk ass home isn’t part of the deal,” Kame tells him evenly, “but I don’t want him at my place when I’m not there.”

He throws a pair of keys towards Yamapi and they hit him in the face, stinging his cheek as Yamapi curses his slow reaction time. He stares at them, his tired eyes focusing on a keychain with English words, and frowns in confusion when he sees one key with a plastic turtle cover on it.

“They’re his,” Kame informs him. “I drove his car back and told the staff to have me picked up here. It’s closer to the studio anyway. See you.”

“Wait-” Yamapi starts, then fumbles with Jin’s keys as Kame looks at him expectantly. “Never mind, just. Thanks for bringing him home.”

Kame stares at him. “For as emotionless as your reputation claims you to be, you’re really transparent, you know that?”

Yamapi blinks, but Kame’s gone when he opens his eyes. He considers going after him but then there’s a hand around his ankle, a weak sound floating up that has Yamapi kneeling down and pulling Jin the rest of the way into the apartment.

“Tomohisa,” Jin slurs, lounging on him like a body pillow as Yamapi struggles to close and lock the door. “I’m drunk.”

“Yes you are,” Yamapi agrees, wrinkling his nose at Jin’s 100-proof breath. “Did Kame make you play bartender or something?”

Jin snorts. “He went to bed as soon as we got back. Gave me a list of stupid shit to do, like dust his pictures and shine his shoes. He’s too OCD to have me do anything else, although I did move a book out of alphabetical order just to drive him crazy.”

“So you stayed up all night drinking by yourself?” Yamapi prompts.

“He always has the good shit,” Jin replies, offering a lopsided smile. “Said I could help myself to whatever I needed, which included his liquor cabinet. I needed a drink. I have a lot on my mind.”

“Stupid,” Yamapi grumbles, halfheartedly smacking him in the head as he more or less drags him down the hallway to Jin’s bedroom. “You could have called me, I was up all night worried about your dumb ass.”

“Worried?” Jin asks. “What did you think he would make me do?”

“You know, something overexerting,” Yamapi half-lies. “You’re already exhausted, and-”

“You are so cute,” Jin interrupts him, and Yamapi has to remind himself that Jin is trashed out of his mind. “I’m the older one and you’re worried about me. Kame is an asshole but he’s not heartless, you know that. He just ordered me around all night while we were working and made me drive both ways and pay for dinner. _Actual_ slave work.”

Yamapi frowns. “What do you mean by that?”

Jin collapses into bed, reeking of alcohol and dancing and Yamapi contemplates shoving him in the shower for five minutes. He’s still thinking about it as he lays next to him, resigning himself to sleeping in here because his sheets are in the washer and he doesn’t care enough to _move_ , let alone put on new ones.

“I don’t feel like a slave with you, is all,” Jin explains. “That’s as far as I got in my thinking, anyway.”

Yamapi knows the feeling. “Let’s just go to sleep,” he says, turning to face the other direction to discourage him from doing something he would regret to someone who won’t remember it (later) in the morning.

It’s past noon when he wakes up, a deadweight on his back and even breathing in his hair. Yamapi can’t bring himself to push him away, especially in the early light of his consciousness that openly enjoys the feel of Jin’s warm body behind him, the hot air against his scalp and the calm heartbeat that seems to make the rest of his apprehensions disappear.

Suddenly it doesn’t matter anymore who wins or loses, as long as he gets to keep his prize the other six nights of the week. ****

> **Week Four**

Jin’s hair is what’s wrong with this picture but Yamapi isn’t too bothered by it, the ponytail seeming to complete the ensemble of suit (pinstripe) and tie.

“I feel like a yazuka boss,” Jin says with a chuckle, standing tall and making a stern face in the mirror.

Yamapi swallows his initial reaction. “Probably because your hair is slicked back,” is all he says.

“Yeah, probably.” Jin adjusts his dark red tie and winks at his reflection. “You don’t look so bad yourself. I like your hair straight like that.”

He’s not the only one, but Yamapi thinks it looks boring just hanging down in choppy layers to his collar. Actually, everything about him seems boring in comparison to Jin, his own solid gray suit and blue tie blending in with his dark hair, even if this time he’s concerned with more than Jin getting more attention than him. He would like it better if _no one_ looked at Jin like that, but he knows that’s impossible. It’s the main purpose of their jobs, after all.

It’s ironic because out of everyone who compliments Yamapi, including most of his female friends and male coworkers, the only one he wants to hear is from the one who doesn’t give them. Yamapi and Jin don’t shower each other with praise because they don’t need it, their friendship going far beyond the superficial level of appearances. If anything, Jin will tell him when he looks like shit and vice versa, or they’ll make fun of each other’s clothes or mock the serious facial expressions in photoshoots. Positive comments between them are rare, at least anything more than an affirmative grunt when asked if something looks good.

Just once, Yamapi wants Jin to look at him the way he’s looking at Jin right now.

Dinner is uneventful but not at all awkward, which is more than Yamapi can say for most of his recent dates. He catches Jin checking out the good-looking waitress and waits for the comment, the usual man-to-man remark about her ass or tits or how Jin wishes he could order her for dessert. It wouldn’t be the first time although it hasn’t happened lately, they haven’t gone out like this in awhile and the last time was at a club where all the girls were the same.

The words never come, though, and Yamapi sees Jin’s eyes flicking down to his untouched salad.

“Something wrong?” Yamapi asks carefully. Maybe he knows her, maybe he’s fucked her.

Jin looks like he wishes he had bangs to hide behind. “The strip of skin on her third finger is considerably paler than the rest of her hand. I wonder if her marriage just ended.”

Yamapi doesn’t know what to say, so he just nods and sneaks a look for himself when the waitress brings their appetizers. Sure enough, the spot where a wedding band once was practically shines, and Yamapi thanks her a little more genuinely than he would have before. She bows gratefully and promises to come back and check on them, once again leaving them to their own respective conundrums.

“It’s called projecting,” Jin says, his voice so deep that Yamapi has to look up and make sure it’s really him speaking. “I’m avoiding my own problem by focusing my attention on hers, speculating. She probably just takes it off for work, or maybe it’s a different kind of ring.”

“Now I feel horrible,” Yamapi begins. “I’ve been so absorbed in my problem that I didn’t even know you had one.”

Jin chuckles. “I want to say things like ‘isn’t it obvious?’ But to you, it’s probably not.”

“Tell me,” Yamapi orders. “Slave.”

“Not here,” Jin says, meeting his eyes with an apologetic smile. “Later, I promise.”

Yamapi accepts that and they both eat, neither one ever too preoccupied to affect their appetites. The waitress takes good care of them and laughs when they argue over the check, Yamapi playing the slave card once again but giving in when Jin pouts at him. It’s even more amusing to see Jin with his slicked-back hair and pinstripe suit pout like a five-year-old, and Yamapi finally breaks and holds out the check in defeat. Jin whoops like he won the lottery and produces his bank card, grinning victoriously up at the waitress as he hands it back to her.

“I hope we made her night,” Jin says as they leave, and Yamapi thinks that if he wasn’t already in love with him, he definitely would be now.

Yamapi had driven, which gives him leverage to sit in the car and refuse to start the engine until Jin tells him what’s wrong. “If you don’t tell me,” he further threatens, “I have all of NewS’ albums _and_ singles in here.”

“Okay, okay,” Jin relents, and Yamapi’s only offended for a second. “It’s just that… this whole slave thing has got me thinking too much about… stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?” Yamapi asks casually, like they’re talking about the weather. “You can tell me anything, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” Jin leans back in the passenger seat, staring out the window at nothing as he decidedly looks away from Yamapi. “I’m still sorting it all out, but what I can say for certain is… with you…” He sighs. “It would be okay.”

“What would be okay?” Yamapi prods. “Just say it, Jin.”

“Being a slave, like for real,” Jin spits out. “Basically an M, or maybe… a pet.”

Yamapi’s mind goes blank, his jaw dropping. “Jin.”

“I know, it’s crazy.” Jin chuckles nervously, his knuckles turning white in his lap from the force with which his hands are folded. “It’s just. And then you got all possessive when Kame had me and it… it was hot.”

“You…” Yamapi’s lips are suddenly dry, no amount of licking can hydrate them. “Jin, look at me.”

Slowly Jin’s head turns, his eyes looking down until the last second when they rise to meet Yamapi’s. “I’m sorry,” he says quickly, his eyes softening with regret. “I know this probably makes you uncomfortable and we have to live together and I. I don’t think I would want to be like this if I didn’t feel something for you, which is the part I haven’t quite figured out yet so while I can’t say for sure what it is, it’s definitely more than friends and-”

Yamapi cuts him off before he can ramble anymore, following his instincts for once and grabbing Jin by that goddamn ponytail. He crushes their mouths together and it takes a second for Jin to realize that his words are being eaten and not heard. Then strong hands are on his shoulders and for a long, excruciating second Yamapi fears that he’s going to be pushed away, that he was wrong to think that “more than friends” meant it was okay to kiss him, but in the next second Jin is pulling him _closer_. Yamapi’s body is twisted across the console and he couldn’t be more comfortable, not with Jin’s soft lips against his and hot tongue in his mouth.

The windows are fogged by the time Yamapi pulls away, leaning his nose against Jin’s as he struggles to catch his breath. He doesn’t want to stray too far in case Jin disappears, like an illusion, and touching him keeps him real for a little bit longer.

“I don’t know anything about it,” Jin whispers into the corner of Yamapi’s mouth. “Just, you know, what I’ve seen in porn. What _we’ve_ seen in porn.”

Yamapi’s face starts to feel hot as he recalls that particular one. “With the whips and chains and collars and shit?”

“Not as… commercialized,” Jin replies, and Yamapi breathes out a sigh of relief he hadn’t known he’d been holding in. “I don’t want you to hurt me, or restrain me.” He swallows. “I wouldn’t mind the collar though, just not all the time. Obviously.”

“Jin,” Yamapi says, his mind racing with _images_ graphic enough to make him physically jolt. “One thing at a time, please.”

Now Jin laughs, lowering his head to rest against Yamapi’s forearm and looking up at him in what Yamapi feels to be a prelude to their little exploration together. “It just feels right, to do what you say and have you get pleasure out of it.”

Yamapi knows he’s referring to their nonsexual activities thus far, but he continues to see the more adult meaning behind those words and isn’t sure he can be the man he sees behind his eyes. No props, just words, delivered in a strong voice that will make Jin do whatever he says. Visions of a striptease, Jin touching himself, touching himself _there_ , touching someone else… Yamapi has to shake himself out of his thoughts and fight to catch his breath from the possibilities alone.

“We can practice,” Jin says eagerly, and Yamapi can hear in his voice how badly he wants it. “Next week when you own me again, you can make me do whatever you want. Anything.”

“I don’t want to force you,” Yamapi insists. “We just kissed for the first time five minutes ago, Jin. Can we have conventional sex before jumping into this kinky shit?”

Jin laughs again as he reluctantly lifts his head and settles back in his seat while Yamapi starts the car. “You wouldn’t be forcing me,” Jin tells him as they wait for the defroster to make the fog evaporate. “I can still say no, I just… won’t.”

“This is _insane_ ,” Yamapi comments. “How can you be so relaxed about it?”

“I’ve had a long time to get used to the idea,” Jin answers. “Thinking about something every minute of every day for four weeks is long enough to accept it.”

Yamapi gapes at him. “And here I was driving myself crazy because I _might_ be in love with you.”

Jin smiles and reaches for his hand. “That’s important too.”

Yamapi looks down at their fingers that automatically entwine, his thumb rubbing along Jin’s as he struggles to gather his bearings before putting the car in gear. The windows are completely clear but his mind isn’t, and it’s not so much driving home but what will happen when they get there that has his nerves on end.

“Not tonight,” Jin says firmly, gently guiding him to shift into drive. “Not ever, if you’re not comfortable with it. Okay?”

“Okay,” Yamapi says, nodding to himself as well as Jin as he drives back to their building one-handed. He drops Jin’s hand when he parks, expecting him to grab it again on the walkway but instead Jin walks a little bit behind him, following him up the stairs and to their door.

Once inside, he turns to see Jin shrugging off his blazer and untying his tie. Jin notices him looking and pauses, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

Yamapi licks his lips. “So I just, what, bark out orders?”

“Whatever you want,” Jin says. “I like it when you use a quiet, assured voice.”

Yamapi clears his throat and takes a deep breath. “I want you to take me to bed. Undress me, tuck me in, and kiss me goodnight.”

Jin finishes pulling off his tie and reaches for Yamapi’s. “It’s a little early to be going to bed, Tomohisa.”

“I’m betting that the goodnight kiss will take awhile,” Yamapi replies. “I’ve had good luck lately.”

“Nothing you haven’t earned,” Jin says, smirking as he whips off Yamapi’s tie and pushes the blazer off his shoulders. He turns around to hang them up in the hall closet and Yamapi’s eyes drop to his ass, framed in the pinstripe dress pants that Yamapi wants off. Now.

As if he’s reading Yamapi’s mind, Jin laces their fingers together again and leads him down the hallway, pausing at his own room. “Do you want me to change too or did you want to do it?”

“You,” Yamapi answers, and he lingers in the doorway as Jin unbuttons his shirt and pulls it out of his pants. Jin’s chest has never looked so enticing and Yamapi wonders if it was the slave thing that did it for him too, some kind of magic spell that turned his best friend of so many years into someone with whom he could find love. Then Jin drops his pants and Yamapi gulps at the prominent erection in his boxers, one that stays visible even after Jin puts on sleep pants and stays topless.

It doesn’t occur to him that Jin’s getting closer until a single finger lifts up his chin, lifting his eyes to Jin’s amused face. “Pervert.”

Yamapi gasps. “ _Me_?”

Jin just laughs as he grabs Yamapi’s hand again and takes him to his own bedroom, where Jin gets to work on his shirt and belt. To his credit, he doesn’t try to tease Yamapi in any way, just does what he’s told and kicks Yamapi’s clothes towards the corner before dressing him in something comfortable to sleep in. Then he pulls down the covers and tugs Yamapi towards the bed, guiding him between the sheets like he required physical assistance. He only tucks in one side, the one closest to the edge of the bed, and Yamapi is a little confused until Jin slips in on the other side and completes the task with his body.

Yamapi knows that Jin’s going to kiss him and is ready for it, licking his lips as he raises an arm to drag his fingers along Jin’s hairline. There are a few strands of hair that won’t grow as long as the others and Yamapi plays with them, noticing the way Jin’s head leans into his touch. Obediently. It’s natural the way they come together, Jin leaning in to brush their lips together and Yamapi turning to accommodate, accepting Jin into his mouth and chasing Jin’s tongue with his own until Jin sounds like he’s in danger of hyperventilating with as quickly as his breaths are wheezing in and out of his nose.

“Jin, are you okay?” Yamapi asks in concern, speaking partly into Jin’s mouth because he can’t bring himself to pull away completely.

“ _Yes_ ,” Jin replies, sounding frustrated, and all at once Yamapi knows what his problem is. “It’s killing me not to touch myself.”

“So do it,” Yamapi says without thinking. “Just don’t come on my covers.”

He expects a question of certainty, maybe a look of disbelief, but Jin just moans softly against Yamapi’s jaw as his body rocks with his self-assault. Yamapi’s arousal peaks from the sound alone and he’s completely hard in the time it takes Jin to stroke himself once, his own hand reaching down to do the same before he thinks better of it and grabs for Jin’s wrist.

“Me too,” is all he says, and Jin blindly finds his mouth again as strong fingers wrap around his cock.

It’s not Jin’s dominant hand but it doesn’t seem weak at all, squeezing them both at the same speed that has Yamapi panting into his mouth as his own hands wrap around Jin and pull him close. He considers pulling Jin completely on top of him and rubbing their cocks together, groaning at the friction that would undoubtedly ensue as his hips snap up on their own accord, leaving him no option but to stay like this as Jin pulls his foreskin back to thumb the slit and Yamapi teeters on the brink of orgasm.

“Jin,” he moans, the noise mirrored by Jin’s as he ups his speed, swallowing Yamapi’s gasps until they both pull away with a sharp cry. Jin’s heel slams into his knee and Yamapi realizes that he’s trying to kick off the cover, a last-ditch effort to follow Yamapi’s one rule that doesn’t seem like it’s going to work until Yamapi reaches down and flings them all the way off.

“Fuck,” Jin hisses, burying his face in Yamapi’s neck as he jerks against him, his own hand slowing on Yamapi’s cock that’s spilling over his fingers. It gets on Yamapi’s shirt but he could care less, simply pulling off the offending garment and tossing it into the general direction of floor while Jin reaches for the tissues and gets to work cleaning them up.

It’s still early when Yamapi leans back against his pillow, Jin laying on his chest and Yamapi’s arm automatically lifting to pet him. It should be weird but it isn’t, and Yamapi wonders if this is what Jin meant about just accepting it even if he doesn’t understand it.

There’s one thing he does understand, though. “I love you,” he says breathlessly.

Jin snuggles closer. “I have to love you too, don’t I? I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else.”

It’s good enough for Yamapi.

> **Week Five**

Yamapi has forgotten what it’s like to live without worries. It’s only been a few weeks, but those few weeks were _excruciating_ and Yamapi didn’t realize exactly how much he was stressing over his man-crush on Jin until it was resolved. Waking up next to him is as normal as anything, day after day, no more than rushed kisses between them because Jin’s rehearsing until late at night and Yamapi films early in the morning.

And they’re looking forward to Saturday night. Yamapi is the most apprehensive despite having _complete control_ ; he spends the week wondering what he should make Jin do on the rare occasions that his brain isn’t completely shut off for filming, doing his best to keep his ratings up in order to earn his prize. It’s unspoken that they’ll only explore this different kind of relationship together on Saturday nights, from sunset to sunrise, and only if Yamapi wins the bet that seemed so stupid to begin with but now means almost as much as his life.

If Kame wins him again, Yamapi’s not sure what he will do. Not because of what Kame would do to him, but because of what Yamapi wouldn’t be able to.

Yamapi’s in an unexpected NewS meeting when the results come out, after only filming in the morning due to the bad weather. The rest was rescheduled for the next day but after noon, which is fine with Yamapi because he doesn’t think either he or Jin will last past ten o’clock. It’s not the best time to start dating someone for either of them, but between the two of them it would _never_ be a good time. Besides, they get to share a bed every night, Jin clinging to him like he’d fall otherwise, and that’s more than enough intimacy to hold Yamapi over until they can be together during waking hours.

This might just be the easiest relationship he’s ever had. Even if he has to become some kind of dominant leader to do it. He’s already a leader, as proven by the five men sitting around the conference table, all looking to him for something – support, information, even Ryo needs Yamapi to keep him in line. Ryo is the one who barks the orders in NewS, while Yamapi just motivates and sets a good example. None of that is going to help him in bed, although it might not actually be as satisfying if it did.

“Ah!” Tegoshi squeals, the numbers refreshing on his phone faster than Yamapi’s. “Leader wins again!”

Yamapi must look more relieved than he should, because four pairs of eyebrows rise in his direction (Ryo just rolls his eyes). “I, um. Jin and I had plans tonight.”

Ryo scoffs. “Nice to see you two finally sorted things out.”

Even _Koyama_ is giving him a knowing look, and Yamapi’s never been so grateful to see their group manager walk in the room and interrupt his embarrassment. “New single,” he announces, and Yamapi immediately switches gears as everyone cheers.

He tries not to think about how this is going to cut into his free time even _more_. He’s no stranger to a crammed schedule, especially while filming a lead role in a drama, and he has to keep telling himself that Jin understands, Jin is just as busy if not more and would probably be relieved to get to rest for a night, regardless of how much they were both anticipating spending the evening together.

They’re still practicing their parts and brainstorming for the PV when sunset rolls around, two meetings combined into one due to Yamapi and Tegoshi’s filming schedules, and Yamapi sneaks his phone under the table like a kid in school and shoots off a message to Jin. _New single, will be late, sorry._

The phone buzzes almost right away, and Yamapi just smiles and shakes his head at the response. _Then I will take a nap. Congratulations on your single. Wake me when you get in. ♥_

“Aw, he gave you a heart,” Ryo hisses from next to him, and Yamapi bangs his wrist on the table from the force of his startled jerk. “Don’t let yourself get distracted, _Leader_.”

Ryo’s words sting true and Yamapi fights to focus, paying attention to his members and making notes of the things they need to work on. It’s long past dinnertime when they break, setting up another meeting for Sunday evening after Yamapi’s rescheduled filming to go over choreography. Things happen fast in this business, something that is both a blessing and a curse when it comes to Yamapi’s priorities. He doesn’t like waiting around for things to happen, but at the same time he wouldn’t mind having more than two days to learn a new song and dance. They’d probably be recording it on Monday and performing on Music Station later this week. There goes Yamapi’s evenings for the next couple weeks, but that’s to be expected from releasing a single while filming a drama.

He’s still humming the tune when he arrives home – if there’s one thing he likes about their songs, it’s that they’re damn catchy – and he tries to be quiet, laden with boxes of take-out because he knows that Jin hasn’t eaten yet and neither one of them will feel like cooking. He only expects it to get worse when Jin’s solo concert starts and NewS starts working on their album, which is the inevitable next step after putting out the second single, Koi no ABO being the first. _Last spring_. Yamapi can’t say he’s disappointed at all to be proceeding with NewS group activities at all after their uneventful last year. Even if the timing sucks.

Jin’s still asleep when Yamapi tiptoes into his room with the boxes, sits on the edge of his bed, and nearly laughs out loud when Jin’s stomach grumbles in greeting. “Wake up, sleepy face, your belly wants to eat.”

“Mmnrgph,” Jin mumbles, rubbing his stomach and making an uncomfortable face before peeking open his eyes and smiling in recognition. “I was just dreaming about you.”

“Oh?” Yamapi asks, placing one of the boxes on Jin’s stomach and digging into his own. He’s famished. “Did I bring you food?”

Jin yawns. “Close. You had me feed you.”

Yamapi pauses in his eating and looks over his chopsticks at Jin, who’s sitting up with his unopened take-out box in his lap. Wordlessly Yamapi hands over his chopsticks and his own box, scooting closer to make it easier for Jin to reach him. “Alternate between you and me, because you need to eat too,” Yamapi tells him. “Although I don’t know if you will like what I got.”

Jin peers into Yamapi’s box and wrinkles his nose. “I can go back and forth,” he says, finally popping open his own box and lighting up at the aroma of his favorite. “You’re too good to me.”

“Only the best for my… Jin,” Yamapi says slowly, biting back the word he really wants to say. It just sounds cheesy, calling Jin his boyfriend. Lover isn’t too bad, even if they’re not technically there yet. It’s just a name, anyway.

“Your Jin,” Jin agrees, appearing perfectly content with this arrangement as he dips Yamapi’s chopsticks into his box and holds out a decent-sized mouthful. “Open up~”

The way he says it is cute and Yamapi obliges, noticing Jin’s hand poised in front of his chin to catch anything that Yamapi might not. It’s almost paternal how cautious Jin is with him, like he’s a small child or an elderly man who needs assistance eating. A kind of affection that far exceeds the average adult relationship, unless something awful happens where one of them becomes completely dependent on the other.

Yamapi thinks this is a little backwards to Jin’s preferences, because right now he feels like the submissive one who opens his mouth when he’s told and eats properly. He imagines that Jin would probably rub his throat if he was having problems swallowing, or scold him if he didn’t chew long enough. But at the same time he’s still the one in charge because Jin’s doing this _for_ him, catering to his needs and Yamapi thinks he’s finally starting to understand why Jin’s so obsessed with being instructed how to please him.

Up until now, Yamapi wouldn’t tell anyone when he wanted something. Not in regards to material things that he could purchase on his own, but actions that he usually just did himself instead of asking others. Running errands, cleaning up, even doing his own hair or making dinner. It was the most common topic of argument when Yamapi and Jin first moved in together, not the normal roommate quarrel centering around _not_ doing chores but more towards Yamapi doing them _all_ before Jin got a chance. Yamapi couldn’t process waiting for Jin to do something if he could take care of it sooner, and even though he never felt any resentment towards Jin for it, Jin felt extremely guilty for not pulling his weight around the apartment and finally insisted on doing other things like buying the groceries and household items to make up for it. Since stopping anywhere on his way home or leaving on his day off was a hassle to Yamapi.

He wants to say “I get it” but eating is more important, even if Jin seems to notice the change in his eyes as he stuffs his face with his own take-out in accordance with Yamapi’s directions. He _gets_ it because deep down, Jin is a lover, and the only thing a lover needs in life is someone to love. Jin likes doing things like this because it makes him feel needed, trusted, more motivated to do his best at everything to make Yamapi proud of him. He’d do anything if it meant Yamapi’s happiness, even if it’s solely Jin’s enjoyment of performing the tasks that pleases Yamapi the most.

Sitting cross-legged on Jin’s bed right now, his hands folded neatly in his lap as he’s lovingly fed by his Jin, it seems like a thousand years ago that Yamapi yearned for Jin to pay attention to him and be attracted to him. Now Yamapi thinks that this is so much better than that.

Once their boxes are empty and their bellies are full, Yamapi suggests a bath and Jin rushes to prepare it, nearly letting the tub overflow when Yamapi walks in and takes off his clothes. “Now who’s being a pervert?” is all he says, taking pride in the way Jin’s face flushes as he drains the extra water before they get in.

Jin’s fingers are like heaven on his scalp, massaging away the stress of his double workload that he knows Jin shares. “Is it a fun song?” Jin asks. “NewS’ new single.”

“I don’t know if I’d say it’s ‘fun’,” Yamapi replies. “It’s catchy. It’ll make a good ringtone.”

Jin laughs. “I don’t know if I ever told you this, but most of us hate our old songs so much that the only way we can enjoy performing them is to make them fun. Kame and I were so sick of Real Face until Taguchi dared us to patty-cake to it on the tour before last, and now it’s a fun memory that resurfaces when we sing it.”

“Your group is weird,” Yamapi tells him. “I will never understand the inner workings of KAT-TUN.”

“I could say the same for you and your ‘member love’,” Jin scoffs. “One day we should switch Koyama and Kame and see what kind of insanity occurs.”

“I do not want that guy anywhere near my group,” Yamapi says firmly. “I would switch with Ueda and make it KAT-TYN.”

Jin laughs so hard that he upsets the water, and Yamapi’s laughing too before he realizes what’s so funny. “I don’t know what’s better,” Jin wheezes out, “You, me, and Kame in the same group, or Ueda and _Ryo_ in the same group.”

“Kame would be so lost,” Yamapi muses. “I think everyone else would adjust after awhile.”

The conditioner is rinsed out of Yamapi’s hair and Jin’s arms wrap around his waist. “You would be my leader.”

“And that’s why we’re not in the same group,” Yamapi points out, and Jin chuckles against his shoulder blade. “Did you want your hair washed?”

Jin shakes his head. “I washed it earlier before my nap. Are you ready to get out?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

A splash from behind him signals that Jin’s getting out first, quickly running a towel over his body before tying it around his waist and reaching for Yamapi. Yamapi becomes mesmerized at the way Jin dries him off, starting with his hair and ending at his knees, then guides him out of the tub and kneels on the rug as he rubs the towel along Yamapi’s calves and feet.

“Stay there,” Yamapi says, using this deep voice he didn’t know he possessed until right now, staring down at Jin who visibly shudders and pauses in his efforts.

Slowly Jin’s head tilts upwards, those eyes looking up at him expectantly from under his long bangs. If he straightens up properly, his face will be right next to Yamapi’s cock that’s perking to attention from the erotic way Jin toweled him down.

Yamapi licks his lips, taking a breath of courage as he meets Jin’s eyes. “Suck me.”

It’s surprising how fast Jin complies, his lips slurping in Yamapi’s half-hard length that quickly grows to full capacity in his hot mouth. Yamapi’s knees start to waver and he instantly regrets standing for this, but then Jin’s strong hands are on the backs of his thighs and Yamapi doesn’t think he could fall over if he wanted to. Jin’s cheeks puff with the force of his efforts and it’s just like in Yamapi’s fantasy, only this time it’s _him_ , _he’s_ the one who can feel Jin swallowing around him and flicking the underside with his tongue on the upstroke. He’s the one whom Jin’s looking up at with emotional eyes, the determination of wanting to do well and the fear of not doing well enough.

Yamapi thinks his body speaks for itself, the way his hips are rocking into Jin’s mouth that is moving back and forth in tandem, but just in case Yamapi drops a hand to Jin’s head and pushes his hair out of his eyes, fighting to keep his own eyes open as he sees Jin’s bare erection poking out between the ends of his towel.

“With me-” Yamapi sputters, his coherency dwindling as Jin pulls back to lick the head of his cock. “Oh god, _Jin_.”

Luckily Jin is good at finishing Yamapi’s sentences and the next time Yamapi looks down, Jin’s hand is around himself. The towel has completely unraveled and fallen to the floor but neither one of them seem to care, Yamapi’s gaze honed in on what he didn’t get to see last week in his own bed. Jin’s fingers squeeze his own length from base to tip, expertly touching himself the way only he knows how, and his hand moves faster when he notices Yamapi watching him.

Jin moans around his cock and it has Yamapi trembling, both hands thrusting in Jin’s hair as he resists the urge to fuck his face. Some other time, not this time, not when Jin’s jaw is starting to lock and he’s wincing from the pain. Yamapi pulls him back and urges him to concentrate on the head again, he likes that better anyway, and Jin lifts his free hand to wrap around the base to compensate.

“So good,” Yamapi mutters, filthy words that make him feel like an AV actor but they have Jin bouncing back from his self-proclaimed failure. Yamapi feels a tongue in his slit and it’s all over, his orgasm slamming into him so hard that he feels like he was shot across the room. As it is he finds himself on his knees, on the bath rug with Jin who’s still panting with his hand around his hard cock. “You didn’t?”

“Not yet, sorry,” Jin replies, moving his mouth around until something pops and he cringes.

“It’s okay,” Yamapi tells him, leaning in to drag his lips along Jin’s jaw from ear to ear. “Do it now, I wanted to see it anyway.”

“Uhh,” Jin gasps in response, a glance downward telling Yamapi that he’s started up again, the bulging head of his cock much more swollen close-up when Jin pulls back his foreskin with his fingers. Curiously Yamapi reaches down to touch it, feels the wet precome against his fingertips and Jin’s approving moan in his ear. He kisses the back of Jin’s jaw again, on both sides, then leans back to watch his face as he rubs the sensitive tip with his first finger and thumb.

Jin makes another sharp noise, his face scrunched up in anticipation as he looks desperately at Yamapi, trying to say something that refuses to be said. “ _Tomo_ ,” he finally gets out, his cock pulsing against Yamapi’s fingers and coating them in his release.

Yamapi waits until Jin’s eyes are open before bringing his hand to his mouth, tentatively licking the fluid and smacking his lips a few times to gauge the taste. It’s not bad but it’s not great either, it’s just _Jin_ and Yamapi cleans up the rest of his fingers this way while Jin watches in sated amazement.

“Tasty,” he concludes, and Jin laughs nervously.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t do it properly,” Jin says, eyes downcast. “I’ll work hard to get better.”

“You did fine,” Yamapi tells him honestly, his chest still heaving from the force of his orgasm. “I actually prefer that it wasn’t perfect because then I know that you haven’t done it before.”

Jin’s eyes go wide and he shakes his head. “I haven’t done _anything_ with another man before, I swear.”

“Good,” Yamapi says, his possessive side pleased with this response. “Keep it that way.”

Jin’s nod is so enthusiastic that Yamapi almost laughs until he realizes how serious this is. This time he’s the one to stand first, pulling Jin to his feet and crossing the hall to his bedroom, knowing Jin is hot on his heels. He pulls on his sleeping clothes and turns to find Jin still standing there, naked, and it occurs to Yamapi that he’s waiting for instructions.

Instead of speaking, he walks right past Jin and into Jin’s bedroom, grabbing a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt that look clean along with Jin’s hairbrush. Jin looks relieved when he returns, probably torn between following and staying right where he was, although it wouldn’t mattered either way since Yamapi would just do this in Jin’s room if he’d followed. Carefully he dresses Jin, loosely tying the drawstring and making sure the shirt isn’t on crooked, then he sits on his bed with his legs spread and pats the space between them. “Come sit here. Face away from me.”

Jin immediately obliges, his head gravitating back when he feels the brush go through his hair. He moans softly, happily, and Yamapi smiles. He’s not sure why he likes brushing Jin’s hair but he does, forcing the bristles through the thick strands over and over again. He brushes from the top, sides, and underneath, even brushing the front down over his face to pay attention to the mass of hair in the back that was previously overlooked.

Maybe it has something to do with his hairline, the bristles stroking his hair from the roots much like Yamapi’s fingers would. Jin seems to be enjoying it anyway, completely relaxed to the point where he’s swaying a little from not being secured upright. He silently declares Jin’s hair happy and tangle-free before placing the brush on the nightstand and pulling Jin back towards him, hugging him from behind and pressing his nose in the soft hair he’d just groomed.

“That’s it,” Jin says suddenly, his voice choked up enough to have Yamapi fearing the worst. “I just fell in love with you.”

Yamapi hugs him tighter, squeezing his eyes shut to hold back the emotions that threaten to overflow from those words he’s been longing to hear. He feels Jin turn around in his hold and lips press against his, uncaring to Yamapi’s physical battle that he inevitably loses when a single tear streaks down his cheek, caught by Jin’s thumb while the rest of his hand cradles his face. It’s a light kiss but full of meaning, coming together over and over again with no depth, no rush. Something tingles inside Yamapi each time their lips touch and he finds himself falling back on the mattress, Jin settling comfortably on top of him with no detection of sexual arousal.

He doesn’t know how long they stay like that, just kissing and embracing and whispering things that neither one can say in the daylight, _I feel like my dreams have come true_ and _I want to be here with you forever_ and other things they’ve sung about but never fully understood until right now. He wonders if he’s Jin’s first grown-up love but immediately decides he doesn’t want to know, isn’t too sure himself and doesn’t want to contemplate his previous relationships while kissing the love of his life in bed. It doesn’t matter if it’s their first love, it just _is_ love and Yamapi can’t think of any better way to end the halfway point of this stupid bet.

It’s because of that stupid bet that he has his Jin.

> **Week Six**

“So that’s it,” Yamapi says, his voice a lot stronger than his frame as he wavers a little before the two most important women in his life. “Jin and I are together, like that, and it’s serious. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Yama-mama explodes, racing across the kitchen to hug her son who’s over a foot taller than her. “This is _great_ news. I should scold you for keeping it from us!”

“Who do you think we are?” Rina asks from the table, where she sits with her arms folded and a clearly hurt expression on her face. “Not to mention how stupidly obvious you two have been over the years. Do you think we’re blind?”

Yamapi lets go of his mother and tilts his head in confusion. “It’s only been a couple weeks. What are you talking about?”

Rina hides a smile. “Oh, then, never mind. Congratulations on your _boyfriend_ , Niichan.”

Yamapi only cringes a little. “Thanks.”

“I insist on having his family over for dinner,” Yama-mama says firmly. “I won’t take no for an answer, and you can only claim that you’re both busy for so long.”

“That might be difficult,” Yamapi begins, then clears his throat. “Jin isn’t telling his father or brother.”

Rina’s head perks up at the mention of Reio. “Why not his brother? He seemed cool enough when I hung out with him.”

“It’s basically because of his father, he thinks Reio will tell him if he knows.” Yamapi frowns, displaying his disapproval of this arrangement. “If you see him again, Rina-chan, please don’t say anything about us.”

“If I see him again, we have better things to talk about than our older brothers,” Rina assures him with a wink. “I don’t like keeping secrets, though.”

“Me neither,” Yamapi admits. “Unfortunately with our jobs, we have to. Hopefully some day we will be able to exist together in peace, but for now we have to keep it at home and around close family and friends. Not even his whole group knows. He’s really paranoid about his father finding out, and their parents are all better friends than they are.”

Rina swallows nervously. “What do you think will happen if his father finds out?”

Yamapi shrugs. “I don’t know. He won’t tell me. I can understand a little bit, though. I mean, if our father were still around and involved, I would want to become an adult whom he could be proud of as well as a strong man. Strong men don’t date other men.”

“That’s a matter of opinion,” Yama-mama contests. “I may not be a man with petty, chauvinistic priorities, but I did raise you myself and I feel that you turned out just fine. I couldn’t be prouder of you, in any aspect of your life.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Yamapi replies, swallowing back a lump in his throat. If anything, this has sure been an emotional experience. “We’re usually free Sunday mornings, at least until Jin’s solo concert starts at the end of March. I might have NewS meetings though, so earlier would be better.”

“NewS meetings?” Yama-mama repeats. “Are you finally working together again?”

“Yes,” Yamapi answers, smiling at the way his mother and sister light up at the news. “We have a new single coming out, and I’m hoping to get news on an album in the next couple weeks. My manager usually doesn’t schedule my Sundays too early, and everybody knows that Jin is useless before noon so his appointments are usually made later in the day. I’m not sure what his mother’s schedule looks like, but I’m betting she’s much more flexible.”

Yama-mama laughs and pulls her son into another hug. “Go be a star, Tomohisa. When you shine, everyone shines with you.”

Yamapi’s still a bit starry-eyed when he returns home after a late day of filming, starting at the sight of Jin’s mother sitting at their kitchen table with Jin and a pot of tea. He immediately knows that something is wrong because Jin only drinks tea when he’s upset. Comfort tea.

“Good evening,” Yamapi says gently, unsure of how to address the woman he usually calls ‘Mom’ with such a serious expression on her face. “What’s wrong?”

“She told him,” Jin mutters, his hand curled into a lax fist that barely bangs against the table. “My father knows about us.”

His mother has no trace of shame on her face, bowing her head a little to Yamapi and offering a small smile. “As much as he would like to, my husband does not speak for both of us. For what it’s worth, I’m happy for both of you. Please take care of my son, Pisuke.”

“Always,” Yamapi tells her as he takes a seat at the table next to Jin. Akanishi-mama starts to pour him a cup of tea, but he politely declines with a wave of his hand. “What happened?”

“I’m fucking disowned is what happened,” Jin grumbles. He’s shooting his mother a look with so much hurt that Yamapi wants to scoot over and hold him, company be damned. “Because she couldn’t keep one thing from him!”

“Jin, don’t yell at your mother,” Yamapi says sternly, and Jin’s jaw clamps shut. He really does pull Jin towards him, the legs of the chair scraping along the floor until their seats bump and Yamapi’s arm slides around Jin’s back. He’s shaking, his true emotions suppressed by anger, and Yamapi knows the feeling all too well.

He offers Akanishi-mama a sympathetic look as Jin buries his face in Yamapi’s shoulder. “Please tell me what happened.”

“I thought it was great news,” she replies, and Yamapi sees a lot of his own mother in her. Maybe this is what she would have been like if his father had stayed. “I thought my husband would be a little disappointed at first, but gradually warm up to the idea. Just like when the boys joined the agency to begin with.” She shrugs. “We can still get grandchildren out of Reio, and it’s not completely impossible with you two either.”

There’s something else to think about, Yamapi realizes as Jin’s past words about wanting to be a father swim forward in his mind. For now he pushes them back and focuses on the task at hand, holding Jin close to him as he presses the uncomfortable truth. “I’m guessing he didn’t take it well?”

Akanishi-mama frowns. “Words were exchanged this morning when Jin stopped by. Reio woke up and put in his two cents, and Jin raised his fist to him. Their father broke them apart and tossed Jin out the door, screaming for the whole neighborhood to hear that his failure of a son is no longer welcome in his house.”

“You could have sugar-coated it a little,” Jin mumbles into Yamapi’s skin. “I already heard it once.”

“He can be mad at me all he wants for being here,” Jin’s mother goes on, reaching for her son’s hand that’s shaking on his cup of cold tea. “But I love you no matter what you do, you know that. If he makes me choose, well, you’ll have to clean up one of your rooms for me.” She smiles. “I can’t imagine that you need them both anyway.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Jin chokes out, squeezing her hand. “I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“It’s okay,” she tells him, eyes shining with emotion as she turns them to Yamapi. “I’ll leave him to you. I can see myself out.”

The door closes behind her and Jin takes a deep breath, his weight on Yamapi becoming more lounging than support. “I knew this would happen.”

“I’m sorry,” Yamapi offers. “I don’t know what to say. My mother and Rina were happy, albeit sad that I didn’t tell them right away.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Jin replies, snuggling closer as Yamapi’s hand automatically rises to stroke his hair. “I’ll just claim your family.”

Yamapi smiles as he senses Jin’s mood lifting. “We’ll gladly take you.”

They sit there like that for Yamapi doesn’t know how long, until his back starts to hurt from the chair and it occurs to him that they shouldn’t both be free tonight. “Didn’t you have rehearsal?”

“Called off,” Jin says with no remorse. “My choreographer is a certified asshole and with the mood I’m in, I would do something worse than try to hit my brother. In the best interest of my career as well as his face, I faked a fever. So if anyone asks, I was miserable tonight.”

“Okay, but don’t make a habit of it,” Yamapi teases him. “It makes me look bad to cover for you.”

Jin laughs. “Only if they find out the truth.”

He has a point, which Yamapi accepts as he motions for them to get up. “Your mother was right about one thing. We should probably merge all of our things into one room.”

“Why?” Jin counters. “That’s unnecessary moving. I’m okay with bed hopping.”

Yamapi just shakes his head as they trudge down the hall. “I’ve gotten used to you on Saturday nights. It feels weird to have you argue with me.”

He’s halted by arms around his waist, Jin’s firm body against his back and lips pressed behind his ear. It sends a prickle of arousal down his chest, ending between his legs in a prelude to something that usually takes much more than a simple kiss to the neck to ignite.

“It’s Wednesday,” Jin reminds him, pulling him into his room and unceremoniously shoving him down on his bed. Yamapi knew that Jin had an aggressive side but has yet to see it until now; it’s _hot_ and Yamapi’s legs automatically fall open to accommodate Jin’s form that crawls predatorily between them.

“Jin,” Yamapi gasps in what’s supposed to be a protest but probably sounds more encouraging by the way Jin cups the growing bulge in his pants. “I don’t want to fuck your pain away.”

Jin pauses, leans down to cover Yamapi’s body completely with his own, and lazily drags his lips up Yamapi’s jaw to his ear. “Then let me fuck you.”

It doesn’t make sense at all but the idea has Yamapi’s nerves tingling in approval, his arousal boiling as his body makes the decision for him and pulls Jin up for a long, heated kiss. They only break apart once, to pull both of their shirts over their heads, then Yamapi feels his pants and underwear tugged down off his legs that are gently pushed apart by persistent fingers.

“I thought you haven’t done this before,” Yamapi asks, holding back his hurt until he knows for sure. “You seem like you know what you’re doing.”

“I don’t have to have fucked a man to know how to do it,” Jin replies, his eyes widening at the sight of Yamapi spread open for his eyes, his fingers, his cock. “Oh, my god, it’s so… small. What if I hurt you?”

Yamapi mocks offense. “That’s a little rude, Jin. I don’t tell you how small yours is.”

Jin makes an amused face and smacks the inside of Yamapi’s thigh in retaliation, which has an interesting effect on Yamapi’s body and forms a moan that’s choked back in Yamapi’s throat. Now Jin raises an eyebrow, his thumb rubbing the spot he’d just struck, and Yamapi is pretty sure they’re both filing away this interesting bit of information for later, another time.

Meanwhile, Yamapi feels a breeze somewhere he never has before and shivers under Jin’s scrutiny. “Are you just going to look at it or are you going to do something with it?”

“Impatient,” Jin grumbles, and Yamapi squawks in indignation until there’s a light touch to his rim and he nearly jumps off the bed. “God, I love how your body reacts to me.”

“Jin,” Yamapi says in a rushed voice. “Please.”

Jin cringes a little as he reaches for his nightstand, pulling out a half-rolled tube of something that has Yamapi lifting his eyebrows. “Don’t judge,” Jin snaps, and Yamapi just chuckles as Jin rubs the substance on his fingers. “Like I said, I did a lot of _thinking_ about it. My thinking is just more physical.”

Yamapi feels it between his legs again, the slick fingertip coaxing the tight ring to relax before twisting its way inside, and Yamapi knows exactly how Jin learned how to do this, imagines him doing it to himself on this very bed, experimenting with different amounts of pressure and angles until he found what felt good. He seems to be doing the same to Yamapi, staring hard at his face in a way that would be embarrassing if it were anyone but Jin, gauging his expressions to tell what he likes. It starts to feel good when Jin has two fingers inside him, gently stretching his insides and poking against something that has Yamapi involuntarily arching for more, a small whine escaping his throat at the overwhelming desire for contact.

Jin’s face takes on this smug expression and any other time Yamapi would want to smack it off, but right now it seems okay as long as he _keeps touching him there_. “Ah, found it. Feels good, right?”

Yamapi opens his mouth to answer and a moan comes out instead, which has the same effect as Jin’s face falls and his eyes widen at the way Yamapi’s body is falling apart under his touch. Instead of speaking, Jin rubs against that spot again, making Yamapi ready to crawl out of his own skin, his fingers scrunching up the sheets on either side of him so hard that they’re in danger of pulling completely off the corners. “ _Jin_.”

“I know, baby, I know,” Jin whispers, slipping in a third finger that has Yamapi struggling to accept it. It feels like too much and not enough at the same time, Jin’s words soothing as Yamapi focuses on his nervous face and the way he’s biting his own lip to hold back.

“Just do it,” Yamapi spits out, his body rocking with need that is only going to be satisfied by Jin throbbing inside him. “Fuck me.”

Jin looks apprehensive until Yamapi gives the command, the magic words that have Jin coating himself and settling between legs before he’s even withdrawn his fingers. Yamapi only feels empty for a second, staring helplessly at the only one who can make it better, who can fill him completely. When Jin pushes in, it’s like popping in the missing puzzle piece and having a finished work of art, the two of them finally joined together after all of this time, their minds, bodies, and souls combining as one.

“Ah, Tomo,” Jin gasps, leaning down to press his forehead against Yamapi’s chest. “So tight, oh my god.”

Yamapi grunts in response, unable to form proper words, unable to do much of anything but rock up towards Jin when his body gets used to the intrusion, seeking more of its own accord. Jin gets the point and starts moving, his hips snapping back and forth slowly but sharply, his hands squeezing the flesh of Yamapi’s ass that makes him open more until Jin bottoms out and moans into his skin.

“This is… this is…” Jin stammers, and Yamapi lifts a hand to brush through his hair, like Jin is the one who needs comfort right now. “I’m not going to last very long.”

“Shh,” Yamapi manages to hiss, pointedly placing his thumb over Jin’s mouth. “You talk too much during sex.”

He feels Jin chuckle, followed by a tongue that licks at the pad of his thumb before the whole thing is sucked past his lips. It’s a pointed reminder of last weekend and Yamapi wishes that Jin could fuck him and suck him at the same time, an impossible feat but a desired one nonetheless. Jin pulls away to flick his tongue along the tip and Yamapi arches with the combined pressure, Jin pounding into him while his heavy erection bounces against his abs. His body jerks each time Jin grazes that sensitive spot inside him, his need for friction becoming desperate, his brain failing in sending motor controls to his hand to do it himself.

“Jin,” he moans out. “Touch me, please. Make me come.”

Jin groans into his chest, slick with the sweat of their efforts, and balances himself on one arm while the other reaches down between them. Yamapi cries out at the first contact of Jin’s fingers around him, Jin echoing with his own appreciation because Yamapi’s body tightens even more at the added stimulation. It’s like nothing he’s ever felt before, even the best sex he’s ever had can’t compare, and after this he doesn’t think sex with a woman will ever be the same again. He has absolutely no regret about this realization, his fingers twisting in Jin’s long, thick hair that’s damp to the touch as Jin’s hand strokes him in time with his thrusts and Yamapi feels like his entire body is going to explode all over the place.

Then it _does_ and Yamapi can’t stop the howl that tears from his lungs, uncaring of their neighbors or the strength of Jin’s bed as his body seeks out that final push over the edge, his cock erupting in Jin’s hand as he comes hard enough to black out. His last coherent feeling is every inch of Jin’s cock pushing into him, forcing himself past the increasing restriction that has Jin singing his own song, one that only Yamapi will ever hear as Jin pulses and releases inside him.

It’s deafening quiet when he can think again, and for several frantic seconds Yamapi fears he might have lost his hearing. But then he hears a content sigh from the head resting against his stomach, fingers tracing random patters on the inside of Yamapi’s thigh that’s still quivering from the aftershocks of his powerful orgasm.

“Was it good?” Jin asks innocently, his smug face giving him away.

Yamapi pulls him up as he stretches out his legs. “Yeah.”

“You’ll probably be sore,” Jin tells him. “I hope it doesn’t affect your filming tomorrow.”

“I’ll be fine,” Yamapi replies, only cringing a little as he squirms beneath Jin. “Maybe I should take a hot bath.”

Jin perks up at that idea, and Yamapi is grateful for the way Jin pampers him once they’re in the tub. It’s different than when he’s under orders but a lot of it is the same, the obvious affection and deep caring Jin has for Yamapi being the main constant through both frames of mind. It’s complicated to think about right now, with his mind still clear and relaxed, his only concern being the way he jumps in pain when Jin tries to put soothing cream on the rawness he’d created. Apparently this kind of love hurts, even if Yamapi feels that it’s worth it.

“I’m sorry,” Jin whispers, kissing Yamapi everywhere he can reach in an attempt to make it better. “You can get me back for it on Saturday, okay? I want to feel everything you did tonight. It looked amazing.”

Yamapi shivers at the idea, but when Saturday comes, they’re both too exhausted to do more than lounge on the couch and watch reruns of old dramas. He can’t bring himself to ask Jin to do anything other than lay in his lap, where Jin hugs his waist like a big pillow and moans softly at the way Yamapi’s fingers feel in his hair. Ryo ends up coming over to drink and watch movies, even if they all know that the only reason he’s there is to bring them food and amuse them with his sarcastic commentary. It works out for Ryo because he gets free beer and free reign to make fun of people with an audience.

It’s nice to hang out with him, though, especially for Jin who hasn’t seen him in awhile. Since Korea, Yamapi imagines. He’s only a little jealous that they hadn’t invited him, but given what had happened the last time he went over there, he should be grateful to them for sparing him. Such is the life of a star, everyone chasing after it as it soars across the sky.

He looks down at the other shining star, fast asleep in his lap as Yamapi contemplates just sleeping here tonight. While he’s never quite felt like he was alone in this world of cameras and poses and choreographed moves, it’s nice to share the burden with someone. Jin’s father is just the beginning of the long list of people who would not approve, who would boycott their albums and productions, blame their bandmates and friends as well as them, and run them completely out of the business.

As much as he wants to scream it from the rooftops, he understands that for the sake of their careers, everything they’ve worked hard for all of these years, they need to keep it a secret. And he knows Jin hates it as much as he does, which is the only thing that makes it worth holding back in public and pretending that they’re still friends.

It’s not okay, but they’ll do it for the sake of each other. ****

> **Week Seven**

“Thanks for meeting me,” Yamapi whispers, feeling conspiratorial and a little embarrassed at the racks upon racks and wall mounts of sex toys that greet him and his late-night companion.

Ueda smirks. “Anything that involves Akanishi restrained, I’m in full support of.”

“I’m not actually…” Yamapi starts, trailing off when he sees Ueda eyeing a scary-looking bondage kit. “I just want to buy him a collar.”

“For now,” Ueda amends, and Yamapi lets him think what he wants. “Why do you want him to wear one?”

Yamapi sputters for a minute, then turns to Ueda in confusion. “Huh?”

“The reason is important,” Ueda explains, strolling along the walls of the dungeon and fingering the velvet whips that sway in his wake. “If you just want to be able to control him, a collar isn’t necessary. Unless it has something like electric currents that you can trigger remotely, like an invisible perimeter fence for a dog.” At Yamapi’s traumatized expression, Ueda switches his focus. “Even if the whole concept of a collar screams ‘pet’ to you, if you’re not going to use it for behavioral modification, it really only serves to declare your ownership to everyone _else_.”

Yamapi can follow that, as much as it disappoints him. “So it would be pointless to buy one, then.”

“Not necessarily,” Ueda answers, folding his arms in front of the collar display. “From what you told me about your relationship, as vanilla as it really is, I actually think that you want to collar him because he _wants_ one.”

“That’s true,” Yamapi says, jogging up to him and giving him an incredulous look because he actually _understands_. “Is this common practice amongst this… kind of thing?”

“Not at all,” Ueda replies briskly, and Yamapi’s face falls. “What you two are doing is role-playing. You’re not really controlling Jin, and he’s not really giving himself over to you. This is proven by the simple fact that you only engage in this atmosphere once a week.”

Yamapi swallows. “But-”

“You don’t have to justify it, Pi,” Ueda tells him. “A true master and slave relationship is impossible for people like us. You don’t have enough time to devote to him, so he would feel abandoned. At the same time, he would have to either allow you to control his every movement in the public eye, or quit the industry and wait for you to come home and direct him. BDSM is about complete submission, basically handing over the reigns of your brain to someone else at all times. It’s not something you would entertain every now and then, it’s an around-the-clock job that neither one of you could handle.”

“It doesn’t sound that appealing,” Yamapi says honestly. “I can barely worry about my own business, let alone someone else’s. One of the things I like about Jin is that he can take care of himself and doesn’t need anything more than I can give.”

“That’s why you shouldn’t collar him,” Ueda instructs, and Yamapi tears his eyes away from the colorful strips of leather he’d been considering. “Whether you intend it to or not, a collar will wear down his independence that you value so much. You’ll have to urge him to make decisions and keep his own mind when he’s not wearing it, and then maybe he could be conditioned to only rely on your direction when it’s on.”

Yamapi thinks about Jin standing naked in his room, patiently waiting for his instructions, and feels that some regulation would be good.

“Unless you’re wanting to go 3P, then it would be a good idea to have a visible reminder of your claim.”

Air gets caught in Yamapi’s throat, and Ueda’s actually laughing as Yamapi struggles to breathe. “Why would I want to do that?”

“You’d be surprised how many Doms want their sub to be with someone else.” Ueda gives him a knowing look. “I will die of shock _and_ pay for your purchase tonight if you can stand there and tell me you haven’t.”

Yamapi swallows, the obvious answer floating to the front of his mind, clear as day. “I don’t understand why I would want to share him if I’m so focused on owning him.”

“There could be a lot of reasons for it,” Ueda lectures, gesturing grandly around the room that does nothing to support his case. “The word ‘share’, for one thing. You’re not giving him away, you’re lending him out. Like a library book. Maybe you harbor a secret desire to make him a whore, maybe you take pride in your hard work and want to show him off, maybe you want to double-penetrate or make fingercuffs out of him.” Ueda helpfully provides a demonstration with his fingers, and Yamapi gulps. “Or more likely, you just want to watch. Voyeurism.”

“That’s possible,” Yamapi thinks out loud. “The last one.”

Ueda looks over his shoulder and quirks an eyebrow. “You offering?”

“ _No_ ,” Yamapi says sternly, and Ueda just laughs as he sweeps his hand towards the wall of collars.

“Pick one.”

“Any of them?” Yamapi asks, intimidated by the different styles and colors. There are leather, suede, thin, thick, plain and ones that look like they were Bedazzled. Every color in the rainbow, patterns, etc.

“It’s just like picking out any other accessory for your loved one,” Ueda tells him with a shrug. “Personally I would advise the leather. I hear it’s more comfortable.”

Yamapi tries not to think about how Ueda knows that and fingers a dark brown leather collar with nothing fancy, just a metal buckle that’s cold to the touch. “Is this one okay?”

“Do you feel power when you hold it?” Ueda counter-asks.

Yamapi thinks about fastening it around Jin’s neck and visibly shivers. “I think so.”

“Then we’re done.” Ueda claps his hands loud enough to shake Yamapi’s resolve as he starts to walk out of the room. He pauses before he reaches the doorway, turning to give Yamapi an amused look. “Unless there’s something else in here that you wanted my opinion on.”

Yamapi follows his eyes to the row of paddles on the wall, and he urges them both out of the dungeon and through the checkout before he manages to erase the vision from his mind.

“I will say one more thing,” Ueda speaks up when they reach their respective cars. “If he just wants to wear something to display that he belongs to you, it doesn’t have to be a collar.”

The beep of Yamapi’s car alarm distorts his thoughts. “What else could it be?”

Ueda smirks. “Normal people use rings.” He leans on the top of his door and looks at Yamapi over his folded arms. “They say it’s a symbol of love and blah, blah, blah, but isn’t it just a symbol of ownership?”

Yamapi frowns. “We can’t do that, the media would go crazy.”

“It doesn’t have to _actually_ be a ring, Pi.” Now Ueda just sounds exasperated, and Yamapi’s more concerned with the weight of the collar in his bag than anything the other is saying. “It can be anything. An earring, a necklace, a wristband. He can play it off as something he just thought was cool if asked, and you can feel that power every time he wears it on stage in front of thousands of people because he’s _yours_.”

“Okay,” Yamapi says distractedly as he starts to get into his car. “Thanks for the advice, Ueda-kun.”

“Good luck,” Ueda calls back, but it sounds faded through the glass of his windows.

He needs more than luck when he has Jin kneeling between his legs as the sun goes down on Saturday night, his face rubbing against the inside of his thigh. “It was close this week,” Jin tells him. “As the season nears its end, it seems that more people are watching YamaNade to see if the drama stays true to the manga.”

“I’m not worried about that,” Yamapi tells him in half-honesty; he still thinks of Kame in an unflattering light, only now the envisioned Jin has a strip of leather around his neck to show his loyalty. How he can be faithful to Yamapi while fucking Kame is beyond the realm of Yamapi’s comprehension, but it’s still a crystal-clear vision behind his eyes.

“Come here,” Yamapi says now, patting his lap. “I have a present for you.”

“Present?” Jin repeats, his face lighting up as he crawls up the length of Yamapi’s legs, straddling his thighs and looking at him expectantly. “What is it?”

“You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to, and it would only be on these nights,” Yamapi prefaces, looking down as he reaches between the couch cushions for his purchase and pushing back the anxiety of officially making Jin his property. “I, um. Thought you would like it.”

A hitch of breath sounds when Yamapi holds up the collar, the tags all cut off and the leather shining from Yamapi’s careful preparation. Jin doesn’t say anything and Yamapi braces himself for the worst, forces his eyes to raise and nearly jumps back at the sight of Jin pulling his hair up and leaning his head forward, an obvious plea for Yamapi to put it on.

His hands are shaking as he unfastens the buckle, slides the leather around Jin’s neck and positions it just under his Adam’s apple, using two fingers to allow adequate breathing room as he pokes the clasp through the closest hole. It’s snug, tight enough for Jin to be aware of its presence each time he breathes but not to hinder his air flow in any way. Yamapi gently turns it so that the buckle is to the side, away from his throat, and he feels Jin swallow under his touch.

He wants to pull away and admire his choice, how Jin looks in his present, but his lips are drawn to the skin that the collar splits and he kisses along the top of it, following his lips with a bit of tongue while Jin tilts his head back to stretch out his neck for him. He makes two cycles from side to side before he has to pry himself away, practically sit on his own hands not to touch and appreciate his purchase.

Maybe he wants this as much as Jin now.

“I love it,” Jin says, breaking the monotony of Yamapi’s thoughts, and Yamapi hears _I love how you love it_. “Thank you for thinking of me.”

Ueda’s warning lingers in the back of his mind, and Yamapi bites back the confession that he didn’t buy it alone. Instead he meets Jin’s eyes, his heart racing at the vulnerability he sees in them, and takes advantage of it to deliver his guidelines. “You’ll only wear this with me, when I put it on. Understood?”

Jin’s quick to nod, shivering visibly when he’s halted by the collar. “Yes.”

“Any other time, you’re to act like it doesn’t exist,” Yamapi goes on. “I don’t want you yearning for it, or for me to instruct you in your everyday affairs.”

“I understand,” Jin agrees.

“When I put it on, we can be like this.” Yamapi lifts his hand to trace the outline again, his fingers gravitating to Jin’s face to push his hair back. “And you will do anything I say.”

Jin bites down on his bottom lip, a noise dying in his throat. “Please take care of me.”

“Always,” Yamapi replies, then leans in for a kiss. Jin’s response is weak, submissive, caressing the dominant streak that Yamapi believes has formed since this whole ordeal began. He pulls away, licks his lips, and speaks into Jin’s jaw. “I want you to take me to your room, take off your clothes, and show me how you _thought_ about us before we were together.”

Something like a growl rumbles from Jin as he stands up and holds out his hand, looking only a little impatient as Yamapi takes his time stretching before reaching for it. He’s led down the hallway at a gradual pace, impressed with Jin’s willpower and persistence as he slowly urges Yamapi to take a seat on his bed. Yamapi lifts his eyes to Jin’s face, which flashes him a small smile before his tongue darts out to wet his lips and he reaches for the hem of his shirt.

It’s far from a striptease but Yamapi likes it better this way, doesn’t think he could wait for Jin to entice him with a super-slow removal of his clothes coupled with a little dance he would probably steal from an old performance. Jin’s shirt is pulled over his head and disappears across the room, exposing his chest that Yamapi wants to run his hands all over and follow the dark happy trail with his lips. He hasn’t had Jin in his mouth yet and has warmed up to the idea, feeling him throb on his tongue and drinking him down when he comes.

In due time, he tells himself as Jin deftly unfastens his pants and shoves them down, along with his boxers, unceremoniously tripping out of them and nearly falling on Yamapi in his struggle to remain upright. Yamapi just shakes his head and smiles, showing his amusement, and Jin only looks a little apologetic as he sits down on his bed and reaches for the tube.

He’s laying perpendicular to Yamapi, straight on if Yamapi turns to face him. Yamapi tucks a leg under himself and sits to the side, facing the head of the bed where Jin’s hair is splayed out on the pillows, his legs slowly spreading to permit his own entrance. Yamapi sees what Jin means about the hole being small and almost chokes on his breath, Jin’s gasps going straight between Yamapi’s own legs as Jin circles his rim with a slick finger.

“Yeah,” Jin’s whispering, talking to himself – or maybe fantasizing – as the finger disappears inside him, his other hand rushing to encircle his cock that lay hard and thick against his stomach.

“Don’t,” Yamapi reprimands. “You’ll come when I make you.”

Jin whines but pulls his hand away, lifting it behind his neck to tilt his head up and look at Yamapi through the narrow slits in his eyes. His lips looks swollen from biting, his face flushed from his actions and his breaths coming in staggered puffs in time with the jerking of his body as he pushes in two fingers and thrusts them in and out of himself.

It’s beautiful, the way Jin’s body rocks up to fuck himself, his neglected cock curving in an arc against the pale skin of his abdomen. Yamapi can see it twitch with need and his mouth twitches in response, his own willpower stepping in to hold him back until Jin’s writhing and begging for release. Three fingers and it’s obvious each time Jin strokes that spot inside him, the snap of his hips that happens all on their own as the moans fall from Jin’s lips. _Tomo, please, want_ , and that’s good enough for Yamapi, who leans forward and pushes on Jin’s wrist to force him deeper.

Jin’s shocked cry is music to his ears, the way it varies in range as Yamapi applies pressure just above Jin’s knuckles to change the angle of his fingers. He wants to yank his hand away and shove his cock in, fuck him hard and pull him off until they both break, but the thought of tasting Jin is too tempting to pass up. Jin’s groan is deep enough to vibrate the mattress when Yamapi takes him in hand, feeling the weight and texture that’s not too different from his own. He pulls back the foreskin and thumbs the head, just how Jin liked it the last time, and Jin’s body responds by arching almost completely off the bed and pushing back against his fingers more fervently.

A final lick of his lips, and Yamapi goes in for a taste. He keeps the foreskin out of the way as he tentatively swipes his tongue along the tip, taking pride in the way Jin’s cock seems to try and jump into his mouth. He tongues it some more, fueled by the delicious moans that rip from Jin’s lungs as though they’re uncontrollable, and he can tell Jin’s going to come right before he does by the way his cock pulses in his mouth, giving Yamapi just enough time to wrap his lips around it and suck him dry.

He keeps licking even as it softens, smiling as Jin squirms beneath him. “To _mo_ ,” he whines.

It’s then that Yamapi notices Jin’s fingers still going strong, his hand shooting between them to halt his wrist. Jin whimpers and makes a sad noise as Yamapi pulls his hand away, scooting up to kneel between Jin’s legs and fumble on the fastenings of his pants. “I want you now,” he says, his voice cracking a little from the contained pressure.

“Please,” Jin says, and Yamapi’s inside him before he can even push his pants down past his thighs. It’s tight and hot and unmoving, Jin’s body continuing to squeeze Yamapi’s cock through his aftershocks along with the new pleasure he’s getting now. Yamapi braces his hands on either side of Jin’s chest and looks down at him, watches him breathe through his open mouth with the collar shining around his neck like a strip of smooth chocolate. He hits something inside Jin that has his back arching, his head leaning back and the collar more visible, the mere presence of it and what it represents making Yamapi thrust faster.

Jin grasps for air as his hands grasp for purchase on his own knees, pulling them up and out until Yamapi’s flush against him, feeling Jin’s flaccid cock and balls against his stomach as he presses his lips to any spot of skin he can find, one hand rising to finger the collar like it was a magnetic attraction.

He pulls on it a little, testing the waters, and Jin makes a surprised noise while his body clamps down around Yamapi. That’s as far as Yamapi wishes to go in that direction, content with forcing his way through the suffocating restriction with Jin continuing to breathe properly beneath him. In and out, in and out, and Yamapi starts to lose his mind. He feels Jin’s heartbeat against his cheek and the stirrings of a new arousal along his belly, groaning into Jin’s skin as he reaches down for his forming erection.

It’s still sensitive and Jin’s noises are dubious, but Yamapi fists him to full length anyway and fucks him even harder to catch up. Jin could probably outlast him but Yamapi knows his secret, holds back his foreskin with one hand while bringing the other one over to rub the head with all four fingers and thumb, and Jin’s moans reach shrill levels as his body jolts and comes all over Yamapi’s hand. It brings Yamapi to the brink and it only takes a few more thrusts before he’s gone, letting go inside Jin who continues to hold him in place even after he softens.

The overstimulation takes him higher, the waves of orgasm crashing over him longer until he can finally pull out and calm down. He feels timid fingers in his hair and relaxes, his hand lifted and wiped with a tissue before it’s held by another. He knows he needs to get up and clean them properly, care for his Jin after he was so rough with him, but he can’t bear to move right now, all of his energy seeming to shoot out along with his release. He manages to ease down Jin’s legs, rubbing his inner thighs that are tight with tension, and move up to his hips before Jin makes an undeniable noise of discomfort.

It’s pitiful enough to have Yamapi stumbling across the hall to the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth that he uses to give Jin a sponge bath right there in bed. They end up kissing and curling towards each other, Jin poking fun at the fact that Yamapi’s still mostly dressed and Yamapi ordering him to do something about it then. He takes off the collar before they sleep, placing it neatly on the nightstand as Yamapi presses his face into the grooves it left on Jin’s neck, and he makes it a point to take it with him into his room the next morning.

He considers taking Ueda’s last bit of advice about getting Jin something subtle to wear in public, because god did he enjoy how he felt every time he caught a glimpse of that collar.

> **Week Eight**

It only takes two days for Yamapi to notice the lethargy, the way Jin pulls at his bare neck on live TV while seeming to the rest of the world like he’s preoccupied or tired as usual. Luckily Yamapi happens to be home in time to catch Music Station, preventing any awkward mails from Ueda when he inevitably makes the diagnosis for himself, and manages to make it to the store and back before he fully finalizes his decision.

He wants it to be real.

Jin wants it to be real too, that much is obvious, even more so when Jin walks in the door after the show and lights up at the sight of Yamapi sitting on the couch, twirling a strip of black fabric on one finger.

“Welcome home,” Yamapi greets him, staring at the carpet before cutting his eyes up accusingly. “I caught your appearance tonight. Is your neck bothering you?”

Jin starts to reach for it, then seems to stop himself at the last minute. “I’m sorry. I know I’m going against your orders, but. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Why?” Yamapi prompts. “Because you want me to control you all the time?”

Jin’s hair flies with the force of his head shake, his bottom lip sucked into his mouth before it’s emitted with his words. “I just want to feel you with me when you’re not there.”

Yamapi’s chest heaves with his sharp intake of air, halting the twirling and squeezing the fabric in his hand. “Come here, Jin.”

Obediently Jin kneels next to Yamapi on the couch, never mind that it’s Monday, never mind that it’s late and they both have to be up early. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Yamapi tells him, lifting his free hand for Jin to nuzzle with his face. “I got you something I think will help tide you over.”

Jin looks at Yamapi’s other hand in interest. “Oh?”

“It’s an armband.” Yamapi shows it to him, just a thin strip of soft, stretchy material. “Nothing fancy, no sparkles or patterns, just a plain black armband. It should go with everything you wear and not arouse any suspicion.”

Jin eyes it, then turns to Yamapi. “This is like a collar?”

“I don’t need a collar to own you,” Yamapi says firmly, and Jin visibly shivers. “The collar is for Saturday nights, the armband is for everyday. You can feel it on your bicep and think of me.”

Jin’s tongue darts out of his mouth in thought, presumably trying to figure out how having something on his arm will keep him from wanting something on his neck, but eventually he gives in and raises his left arm for Yamapi to slide it on. It’s only tight when Jin flexes, they learn, but even then it’s not unbearable. Yamapi watches Jin rub it and hook his fingers under it, becoming acquainted with it in association to Yamapi.

“They came in packs of three,” Yamapi says. “Keep one in your bag in case something happens to this one, and I’ll hold onto the third. You should take it off when you shower, but any other time it can stay on.”

Jin nods once and starts to get up. “I feel like I’m addicted to you or something.”

Yamapi smirks. “I can think of worse things to be addicted to.”

With only two weeks left in the bet, the stakes seem even higher now that Jin’s become emotionally dependent on Yamapi. Being apart from him on their only free night while his mind is still so scattered might just break him. Yamapi’s fully prepared to withdraw if Kame wins again, bow down and proclaim him the king of the drama ratings if it will make him get to keep Jin for the night, but YamaNade falls _just_ short on their eighth week.

What Yamapi doesn’t count on is them both having to work. NewS’ single has just dropped and Jin is in meetings finalizing things for his solo concert while also brainstorming for KAT-TUN’s next album before he’s indisposed for a month. Neither one will be home on Saturday until late, left with only quick phone messages on breaks.

_Is the armband working?_ Yamapi asks at sunset. He’s not sure what he’ll do if it’s not.

He’s on TV when his phone goes off again, but he hides it behind Tegoshi’s back and discreetly glances down at it. _Yes. I’m going to be stuck here forever. Wish you were here._

Yamapi can’t explain what comes over him at that moment, but he pretends to watch the juniors play a game while typing, _Where, under the table?_

He hides his chuckle and answers the questions the host asks him with practiced ease, knowing that the long time between mails will drive Jin even more crazy than he already is. While Jin’s just in a room full of staff making decisions, Yamapi is in the middle of an interview and can’t exactly whip out his phone to send sexy messages to his boyfriend.

Even if the idea is highly arousing. He wonders what Jin would do if Yamapi kept going, describing in intricate detail what exactly he would do if he were there, under the table, and it’s a miracle he doesn’t get hard before performing their new song. Nobody notices any distraction, even Ryo, and Yamapi feels satisfied with his idol autopilot as he begs off Koyama and Shige’s invitations for drinks and speeds home.

_That would certainly make it more interesting_ , was Jin’s response, an hour ago, and Yamapi laughs as he settles on the couch.

He cracks open a beer and rests the phone on his stomach. _I don’t think you could make it without everyone knowing what you were doing._

Beep. _I’m with KAT-TUN now, nobody’s paying attention to me. I could probably jerk off right here and they wouldn’t notice._

It only takes Yamapi a second to make the decision. _Prove it_.

The reply doesn’t come right away, and Yamapi imagines that Jin’s having some kind of internal struggle because he wants to renege.

Too bad for him, it’s after sundown.

Beep. _Covered my lap with my coat. Kame’s right next to me. If he only knew._

Yamapi sits straight up, eyes wide and jaw dropped at the realization that Jin’s actually going to do it. He’s been in those brainstorming rooms and they’re more like interrogation rooms, steel tables with uncomfortable chairs and gray walls that echo. Completely counterproductive for sparking creativity in his opinion, but that’s not the point.

And _Kame_ is right next to him. Yamapi finds himself hoping Jin gets caught. Kame wouldn’t say anything, he’s too smart. He would see Jin typing one-handed on his phone and know that it was to Yamapi, maybe notice him shaking and biting his lip. He would either ignore it or intervene, maybe grab his arm if he’s on the right side and smirk at Jin’s wince when his actions are halted.

_I don’t believe you. You’re lying._

Yamapi isn’t sure what he expects, but a picture message is not it. He can’t see what it is at first, but then he tilts his head and realizes that it’s a very close-up landscape of Jin’s cock. His _erect_ cock. Straining the fabric of what looks like track pants.

Yamapi’s mouth goes dry. His beer forgotten, he flops back against the couch and opens his pants, pulls out his cock that’s already rock hard and arches at his own touch. Squinting to focus on the phone screen, it takes him a couple tries to properly reply.

_That’s hot, Jin. What’s Kame doing?_

That’s sure to throw him off, and sure enough his phone goes off not a minute later. _He’s running his mouth as usual. Why?_

Yamapi decides to take a chance. _I can think of better things for him to do with it._

A moan escapes from his lungs at the thought, Kame under the table instead of Yamapi, and he has to slow himself down to keep from coming too soon.

It’s not nearly over yet.

Beep. _He just gave me a strange look, I think he suspects something._

Now Yamapi’s blood is really racing. _He always looks at you strangely. Drop your pen on the floor. If he gets it, lift your coat so he can see the tent in your pants._

He imagines Kame reaching for the pen, because Jin’s too lazy to get it himself, and his eyes widen at what he sees under the table. Uncomfortable, maybe. Curious.

Beep. _I’m not sure that had the desired effect you were hoping for. Now he’s eyeballing me and has his hand on my knee._

Yamapi thinks about it for half a minute before scrolling down to Kame’s number. _You need to ask before you touch my Jin._

Beep. _Your Jin needs to keep his hands out of his pants during my meetings._

Mailing with Kame has him stroking himself harder, just keeping him at the brink of orgasm. _You can touch him as long as you don’t let him come._

He doesn’t get a response, so he keeps going. _You’ve thought about it, haven’t you? In the showers, after rehearsals… I saw the way you used to look at him._

Still nothing. He returns to Jin’s name. _Tell me what’s happening_.

A series of messages come through one after the other, each one making the smirk on Yamapi’s face bigger.

_Kame smacked my hand away and is teasing me with his._

_Now he’s stroking me, fast, too fast. Gonna come._

_Fucker stopped right before I could finish. Going slowly now. Hate him._

_No idea how he can do this and carry on a conversation about song tempos with Ueda. Want to come._

Yamapi almost laughs, then wonders if Ueda has an inkling of what’s going on right under his nose. He seems to have a sixth sense for anything sexual or kinky.

His phone beeps again, but this time it’s Kame. _Almost time for break. I can stall if you want to drag this out._

Yamapi always knew he liked that one. _Ten more minutes should be good. If I make him go any longer, he might cry._

The next message is from Jin. _Are you mailing with Kame too? Conspirators!_

_I’m touching myself too, Jin. Thinking about him on his knees in front of you. I never told you I thought of it before, the night you were his slave, I got off to the thought of you two. Only you were sucking him. I came so hard, I still can’t stop thinking about it._

Beep. _He. Won’t. Let. Me. Come. Tell him to let me come._

_Did you read what I typed?_

Beep. _Yes. I can’t process anything other than coming right now. Nakamaru keeps glancing over at me, I’m starting to shake_.

_Just a little longer, you can do it. He’ll let you come when it’s time._

Beep. _It’s hot, I feel like a fucking furnace. They have to see it on my face, all of them. Please, please make him let me come soon. Now. Please._

Yamapi looks at the time on his phone, then considers his own need. _Be silent._

To Kame: _Now._

He’s uncertain of the exact second, but Yamapi’s coming with him, moaning out into his empty apartment because Jin can’t. He rocks up into his empty hand and ends up falling to his side on the couch, rolling onto his back to stare at the ceiling fan that keeps spinning around and around. They have a ceiling fan in those meeting rooms too, and it brings Yamapi back to the question of whether Jin managed to have an orgasm in a room full of people without calling attention to himself or not.

This time his phone _rings_. “That was a pretty pitiful coughing fit, but I think they bought it,” Jin’s voice greets him, his breaths sounding rushed. “What has gotten into you tonight?”

“Where are you?” Yamapi asks. “It sounds like you’re outside.”

“Yeah, going to have a smoke.” The phone muffles as Jin presumably situates it, the wind blowing audibly past the mouthpiece. “Kame’s with me, fucker wiped his hand in my coat.”

“That’s what you get,” Yamapi hears in the background, followed by some wrestling and then Kame’s voice is clear. “What the hell, Yamashita? I don’t even know what to say.”

“You did it, didn’t you?” Yamapi shoots back. “You wouldn’t have done it if you didn’t want to.”

“I-that is,” Kame stammers, then makes a frustrated noise. “What do you want from me?”

“New stakes,” Yamapi replies, the corners of his lips curling up into a smile as he watches the blades on the fan go by. “If I win next week, on the finale, you spend the night with us and do whatever I say.”

He hears nothing but wind at first, then a harsh exhale. “My ratings have been going up. What if I win again?”

Yamapi shrugs even though Kame won’t see it. “Choose your ante.”

“I reserve the right to decide upon the results next Saturday,” Kame says.

“Fine with me,” Yamapi agrees. “Can I have my Jin back now?”

“I’m tempted to drag _your Jin_ into the bathroom and make him return the favor before we go back,” Kame growls.

Yamapi makes a tsk noise. “You don’t want to do that. Then I’ll have to be angry with you.”

Kame makes a frustrated noise and Jin returns to the line. “Tomo? You said you wanted me to blow him, right? He’ll be crabby for the rest of the meeting if I don’t.”

“Let him be,” Yamapi says calmly. “Gives him something to look forward to.”

Jin chuckles softly, and Yamapi’s heart warms. “That was kind of fun. Crazy, but fun. I have to go back soon, but I’ll be home in a little bit.”

“I’ll be asleep,” Yamapi says apologetically. “I have filming tomorrow at four a.m.”

“I’ll be quiet,” Jin promises. “See you later. I love you.”

Yamapi actually falls asleep on the couch but wakes up in his bed, Jin curled around him like a body pillow as his phone alarm goes off. He thinks about waking up Jin and having him make breakfast, since it’s before sunrise, then the realization occurs to him that it doesn’t matter what time it is anymore.

Jin belongs to him forever.

> **Week Nine – Finale**

It’s been storming all day, a lazy day off for both Jin and Yamapi in honor of their mutual celebration. NewS’ single hit number one, Code Blue 2 ended with spectacular ratings, and Jin’s solo concert is scheduled to start on Monday. Jin worked hard all week, nailing all of his rehearsals through yesterday in exchange for being given his Saturday, even if he’s expected back first thing in the morning for the last run-throughs.

They spend the day doing something that’s long overdue – moving all of Jin’s belongings into Yamapi’s room. It doesn’t take very long and they both linger in the doorway afterwards, surveying the empty room.

“We could make it into an office,” Yamapi suggests. “Or maybe a studio.”

Jin’s face perks up at that, and Yamapi can already see him buying equipment and spending his free time composing.

He smiles at the thought.

Then Jin’s phone goes off and they both dive for it, thinking it’s the inevitable YamaNade finale ratings, but Jin snatches it first and makes a face.

“Who is it?” Yamapi asks.

Jin frowns. “My brother.” He scrolls down and reads. “‘Aniki: Yamashita Rina just punched me in the face because I said you were a homo. Tell your boyfriend to call off the heathen. The truth is not an insult. By the way, I’m moving out next weekend. If you have anything you want to get rid of, I would be grateful. Also, I paid way too much for a ticket to your concert opening night, so you better not fuck up. Don’t be such a stranger, we’re not all like Dad. ☺ From: Reio.'”

Yamapi already has his phone out to mail Rina, telling her ‘good job’ before he notices Jin replying. “What are you saying?”

“‘Dear Turd, I have a bed’,” Jin reads as he types. “‘And I’m not a homo, my girlfriend just has a dick.'”

“Very funny,” Yamapi comments.

“‘Thanks for your support, I’ll do my best’,” Jin goes on. “‘Yamashita Rina is infinitely cooler than you. As is your big brother. Peace, Jin.'”

Yamapi’s shaking his head. “At least you think my sister is cool.”

Jin just grins as he stares past his stripped bed to the window. The rain is still coming down, and Yamapi wonders what he’s thinking.

“Hey,” Jin says suddenly. “If the sun doesn’t come out, how will we know when it went down?”

Yamapi blows air out of his pursed lips. “I don’t know. I guess we’ll just have to give it until the normal sunset time and see if it makes an appearance today.”

“Do you think we could-” Jin starts, then cuts himself off, shaking his head. “Never mind, I don’t think I could take it off if Kame wins.”

Yamapi moves over to wrap his arms around Jin, loosely slinging them on his waist as he rests his chin on Jin’s shoulder. “We should find out the results soon. Then, if I win, you can put on the collar early.”

Jin bounces a little giddily, and Yamapi can’t help but squeeze him tighter. Seeing Jin so excited about being submissive makes him ridiculously happy. He’s glad they can play to each other’s kinks like this, even if it took nine weeks for Yamapi to get his.

As if Jin’s reading his mind, he leans back into Yamapi’s embrace and plays with his phone. “Ah, I wonder what you will make me do with Kame tonight,” he says in fake bewilderment. “He’s not going to be nearly as cooperative as me, I hope you know this.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Yamapi whispers, pressing his lips to Jin’s neck as he continues to hug him from behind. “It wouldn’t be fun for you if he didn’t fight back.”

It takes Jin a second to process the words, then he turns his head as far as he can to look at Yamapi. “What do you mean ‘fun for me’?”

“Exactly what I said,” Yamapi tells him. “He’s yours.”

Jin swallows. “You’re not going to tell me what to do to him?”

“I can if you want.” Yamapi reaches up to tuck his hair behind his ear. “But I think a perfect reward for being such a good slave for nine weeks would be to have a slave of your own, don’t you?”

He can see Jin’s chest rise with his deep breath. “I don’t know if I can do that,” he admits. “When I wear the collar, I don’t really focus on anything except what you say.”

“I’ll get you started,” Yamapi compromises. “We’ll see what happens from there, okay?”

Jin still looks nervous as he refreshes the messageboard again. “Okay. Oh! Here it is, YamaNade finale ratings.”

The screen takes forever to load, and both Jin and Yamapi are staring at it impatiently when the numbers finally appear. Yamapi recalls his own ratings and as much as he tries, he can’t make them any higher.

“Kame won,” Jin says sadly, dropping his phone to the carpeted floor. “I can’t believe it.”

Yamapi can, just because it’s his luck that they have to spend their day of celebration doing whatever Kame decides is worth his while. He considers mailing him but decides against it; Kame knows their phone numbers and where they live and Yamapi is sure that Kame will come collect his winnings when he pleases.

Jin clings to him. “I don’t want to spend the night with him without you.”

“I don’t want you to either,” Yamapi agrees. “Maybe his terms will include both of us.”

“I think that would be worse,” Jin says, voicing Yamapi’s exact thoughts.

The storm rages on and what sounds like a knock interrupts their mutual comforting. “Did you hear something?” Jin asks.

“I was hoping I imagined it,” Yamapi mutters. “Stay here, I’ll go check it out.”

He tiptoes towards the door, prepared to pretend that nobody’s home if it’s someone they don’t know. He looks through the peephole and nearly falls over, confused at the sight on the other side. He pulls the door open to reveal a soaking wet version of Kame, who looks sheepishly up at him with an expression completely unlike the smug winner he should be.

Yamapi swallows, his concern for Kame’s welfare winning out over his pride, and quickly he ushers the younger man inside the house and yells for Jin to bring some towels. “You’re early,” is all he says. “The sun still has a chance to come out.”

“I’ve been sitting in my car in your parking lot for an hour,” Kame says flatly, shivering as the cold water continues to drip down his hair and face. “I was dry until I walked towards your building.”

“I’m glad you decided to evaporate all over my floor,” Yamapi says sarcastically. “Did you decide what your upped terms were?”

“Did I win?” Kame asks interestedly. “I haven’t checked the boards yet.”

Jin shows up with the towels then, his face taking on a shocked expression at who their visitor is and what he just said. Yamapi expects him to say something but he keeps quiet, holding out a towel to Kame who accepts it and wraps it around his head.

“You came up here not knowing you won?” Yamapi thinks out loud. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

Kame scoffs. “It does when I decided an hour ago that the outcome would be the same no matter what.”

A beat passes and Yamapi’s eyes widen with recognition, seeing the truth in Kame’s face and the way he looks at the floor while still standing straight. “Jin,” he says quietly, stepping back to give him his space. “Come dry off our guest.”

Jin looks at him questioningly, then moves forward at Yamapi’s gesture. Carefully he steps towards Kame, glancing over his shoulder twice more, and squeezes the water out of Kame’s hair with a towel. Then he drops to the floor and unfastens Kame’s boots, peels his socks off of his feet and lifts each one to make sure it’s dry before wiping the water off the floor surrounding him.

Kame remains standing, looking lost as Jin takes off his coat and pats it as dry as he can before hanging it up. Kame’s clothes aren’t that wet but Jin takes the towel to them anyway, lingering on the obviously soaked bottoms of Kame’s jeans that even the sun couldn’t dry. Jin turns to look at Yamapi again, this time asking permission, and Yamapi just nods as he leans against the back of the couch and watches.

A clink of a belt buckle echoes in the otherwise quiet apartment, accompanied by the rain pounding down outside, followed by a pop and a zip as Jin unfastens Kame’s jeans and lets them fall to the floor. Yamapi sees a bump in Kame’s long shirt and wonders if that just happened since he’s been here or if he’s been that way for awhile, growing hard in the car while thinking about Yamapi’s proposition. Last week under the table had just been a prelude to this, the here and now of the three of them coming together like this, the finale of their friendly bet that had started it all.

As far as Yamapi’s concerned, the sun has already set.

“Shu~u~ji-kun,” he sing-songs, grinning when Kame’s eyes narrow in annoyance. “Are you going to do what we say tonight?”

Jin pauses at ‘we’, inhaling sharply at the implication.

Kame just lets his head fall forward in a single nod.

“Jin,” Yamapi calls out, and Jin instantly spins around to face him. “You may get your collar now.”

Jin practically squeals as he races down the hallway, leaving a confused Kame in his wake. “Collar?”

Yamapi just smiles. Kame’s eyes widen even more when Jin returns with the item, placing it in Yamapi’s hand before lifting his hair and leaning his head down. The leather feels even more powerful when it’s secured in front of someone else, a blatant reminder that while he may let Jin out to play, he’s definitely coming back to Yamapi.

“Do you like your present?” Yamapi whispers conspiratorially, fingers trailing down the side of Jin’s cheek to relax him. “You can do whatever you want with him as long as he doesn’t fuck you. That’s for me only.”

Jin nods in understanding, but doesn’t let go of Yamapi’s shirt even when Yamapi tries to nudge him away. “What-what should I do to him first?”

“First?” Yamapi repeats, humoring him with the obvious. “First you should kiss him.”

Jin narrows his eyes and pouts.

“With tongue,” Yamapi adds helpfully. “Like this.”

He kisses him a little harder than he would normally, but only because he’s proving a point. Jin reciprocates in that contained, submissive way that has Yamapi yearning to take control, to make Kame wait his turn and show him what he’s in for as he bends Jin over the back of the couch. He restrains himself, miraculously, pulling away with only a little hesitation and positioning Jin to face Kame.

“Kiss him, touch him, lay him down anywhere but our bed,” Yamapi whispers in his ear. “Undress him, suck him, prep him, fuck him. Got it?”

“Yes,” Jin says, his breath catching in his throat after the fact. “I’ll do my best.”

Yamapi pats him on the ass as he sends him off to battle, settling back to watch his fantasy play out before his eyes. Jin’s shy and taking his time approaching Kame, who watches him like a hawk without any air of nervousness. Yamapi is starting to think it might have been easier to tell _Kame_ what to do when Jin steps right up into Kame’s personal space, cups his jaw affectionately, and leans in for a kiss.

It’s just as beautiful in real life as it was in Yamapi’s mind, the two of them coming together in a long-awaited yet awkward brush of the lips. Kame barely moves until Jin takes initiative to deepen the kiss and Kame’s hand lifts to rest on Jin’s waist. Yamapi’s concerned until he remembers that this is Kame, who was there when Jin got injured and has worked with him nearly every day since; certainly Kame would know to be gentle in that area. Yamapi doesn’t have to worry at all with this one, which gives him the peace of mind to just sit and enjoy what he sees.

Kame’s the one to take it to the next level, clutching at the hem of Jin’s shirt until Jin takes the hint and pulls it off. Now the exact opposite, Jin with no shirt and Kame with no pants, and somehow it makes complete sense to Yamapi. Ying and Yang, Jin and Kame. He’s amused until Jin reaches between them to grope Kame through his boxers, and Kame makes this obscene noise that goes straight between Yamapi’s legs.

Jin kisses him harder and Yamapi spots a kink, finding complete understanding in how the submissive one would take pleasure in hearing vocal appreciation from another. Kame ends up with one leg hoisted over Jin’s hip and Jin’s half-carrying him across the room, appearing torn between throwing Kame up against the wall or doing him right on the floor before remembering that there is a perfectly good couch on the other side of the man whose eyes are watching them.

Yamapi almost reaches out to touch him as he passes by, then decides not to interfere. Jin’s wearing _his_ collar, his snug reminder of whom he belongs to regardless of whom he’s humping into the couch. Kame fits perfectly beneath him, smaller but just as responsive as Jin tugs on his cock and Kame cries out into his mouth. They seem to match despite being polar opposites, all dark hair and tanned skin with two sets of hands that look like they’re trying to touch everywhere at once.

Another moan visibly pulls at Jin and has him returning to his list of commands, lifting Kame’s shirt over his head and shoving down his boxers enough for Kame to kick them off. His cock springs free and right into Jin’s hand, which twists in its strokes while Kame writhes below him. Jin detaches himself from Kame’s mouth with what looks like reluctance, his lips continuing to shine with their combined saliva as he kisses down Kame’s neck and chest, finally ending between his legs.

This is it. Yamapi relocates to the recliner across the room for a better seat, where he can see Kame’s cock slide into Jin’s mouth that swallows him whole. Kame arches on the couch and ends up with his head hanging off the edge, his eyes opening to look upside-down at Yamapi who just gave into the temptation to drop his hand in his lap and rub himself through his pants. He’s as hard as can be but he’s been ignoring it, making it last, hoping that Jin would invite him to join them after he’s completed his tasks. Kame’s mouth looks awfully inviting as he opens it to moan.

So much for Kame fighting back. “Kazuya,” Yamapi says darkly, the name feeling natural on his tongue despite being its first time. “Isn’t my Jin good at pleasing you this way?”

Jin takes Kame in all the way, his fingers reaching up to grab at his collar as his glazed-over eyes look in Yamapi’s direction.

“He’s… he’s perfect,” Kame sputters out, his hands balling into fists on either side of him. He doesn’t even _try_ to touch Jin’s head, Yamapi notices. “Thank you for sharing him with- _ah_!”

Yamapi cuts his gaze back down to Jin, who’s practically smirking with his eyes as his finger disappears into Kame while a tube drops to the floor. The tube Yamapi makes Jin keep in his pocket whenever he’s home. Just in case. He watches Kame’s body accept the intrusion, immediately rocking back against it in a rushed, desperate way that looks painless and… experienced.

He’s done this before, the little slut.

The room is filled with nothing but Kame’s moans, one with every breath, mixed with the thunder from the outside world that seems so far away right now. Jin inserts another finger and it’s almost swallowed by Kame’s undulations, the muscles of his flat abdomen visibly working to meet Jin’s efforts. He whines a little because Jin’s slowed up on his cock, giving it more of a tongue bath than a proper sucking, and Yamapi chuckles.

Presumably hearing him, Kame’s vision sharpens, giving him a frustrated glare. “He’s not the only one I’ve looked at, you know.”

Ueda’s demonstration of ‘fingercuffs’ shoves its way to the front of Yamapi’s mind, his cock twitching in his pants untouched. He adjusts himself and hisses at the contact; he’s really worked up. He’d been planning on making love to Jin while Jin was fucking Kame but he might have to switch things around in light of recent events, and besides Jin didn’t need any lingering pain during his rehearsals tomorrow. Kame’s mouth it is. Lucky for him, Yamapi doesn’t think he’ll be able to last very long. The friction of his pants as he crosses his legs has him ready to come.

Jin’s three fingers deep and Kame’s arching with every prod inside him, looking like a fish out of water that has Yamapi smiling at Jin as he stands up and kneels next to him. “You’re doing well, baby.”

It looks like Jin is trying to smile around Kame’s cock, his eyes straining to see Yamapi next to him. Yamapi reaches over to push Jin’s hair out of his face and stroke it back, petting him as a reward and an apology for not being the one having sex with him tonight. Jin will forgive him, he already does, his wrist flicking to jab his fingers inside Kame as he speeds up with his mouth and has Kame piercing the silence yet again.

“Don’t swallow,” Yamapi whispers, continuing to cradle Jin’s head as Kame undoubtedly comes with a long, drawn-out moan. Jin pulls back and looks over in confusion, his cheeks puffed adorably while his fingers lazily keep stretching Kame.

Yamapi stares at him fondly, admires how beautiful he is right now and engraves it to memory as his eyes flutter shut and he leans in. Jin makes a panicked noise but Yamapi manages to coerce his lips open, accepting Kame’s release in his mouth and sharing the taste with his Jin. He swallows his part, waits for Jin to do the same, and kisses him properly, holding his jaw with one hand and gently rubbing it with his thumb because it’s probably strained.

He could kiss Jin all night but that’s not why Kame’s here, that’s not what Yamapi’s thought about for several weeks now. Jin’s cock is hard and heavy in his hand and Yamapi shudders at the way Jin mewls in the back of his throat, pushing against his hand that doesn’t move other than to roll a condom on him. He’s careful to use just enough pressure to coat him in lube, then he pulls away, wincing at Jin’s whine and giving him apologetic eyes that harden as he walks towards the other end of the couch.

“Turn him over,” he commands, and Jin’s face lights up. He happily obliges, flipping Kame onto his hands and knees and kneading the flesh of his ass with both hands. Yamapi chuckles at him. “You want it?”

Jin sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and nods sheepishly.

A hand grabbing the back of his thigh and rubbing his face against the bulge in Yamapi’s pants answers his next question. Slut.

Yamapi takes a deep breath before giving the most important order of the night: “Fuck him, Jin.”

Quickly Jin pushes in and it’s different, watching his eyes fall shut and his mouth fall open without being the one to make him do it. It’s an interesting comparison that Yamapi thinks he only wants to make once, taking advantage of the way Kame is nuzzling his crotch to rock his hips forward pointedly. He starts to reach down for his belt but Kame gets there first, deftly unfastening it along with the button and zipper on his pants and slurping his cock past his lips before it’s fully exposed.

He feels Jin’s eyes on him, watching his reaction, and Yamapi tangles one hand into Kame’s head to guide him by his hair, something he would never do with Jin. He fights to focus and sees Jin doing the same, wants to reach out and touch him but he’s too unsteady, most of his weight leaning against the arm of the couch as Kame sucks him in and out. It’s fast and hard and exactly what he would expect from Kame, straight to the point without fucking around. He’s moaning around Yamapi’s cock and it brings him there faster, the vibrations and forced breath surrounding him from base to tip.

Jin’s fucking Kame at the same speed that Kame’s sucking Yamapi, bouncing back and forth between them like a ping-pong ball while Jin’s skin shines with sweat and his hair starts to stick to his face. He cracks first, his breath leaving him audibly as he shudders and stills, bracing both hands on Kame’s back to keep his balance. It sets Yamapi off and he yanks on Kame’s hair, pulling him off completely and decorating his cheeks and lips in pearly white.

Instantly Jin flips Kame over, crawls the length of his body and licks his face, cleaning the mess with his eyes on Yamapi, who shakily kneels down and pets him once again. Jin cringes as Yamapi snaps off his condom, stumbling down the hall to dispose of it and return with a warm washcloth. He tosses it on Kame’s stomach and flops back in the recliner, not even bothering to fasten his pants properly as he considers snagging one of Jin’s cigarettes.

Just another thing that would only be for tonight.

He watches in disinterest as Jin tends to Kame with a friend-level of affection, almost laughing out loud at the realization that nothing will probably change between them. Kame will go back to riding his ass and Jin will ignore him, and they will both act like this never happened. Yamapi, even, he’ll go meet his group tomorrow and be the same leader he’s always been, having become accustomed to the role over time. Jin will start his solo concert, KAT-TUN will put out another album, and then they will tour, and hopefully Yamapi will do the same with NewS later this year.

Life will continue to go on, the world turning like normal outside the sanctity of their apartment. Inside they can be Yamapi and Jin, Master and slave, petting and pleasing and exploring this new and exciting life together. The dramas are over but the terms stay the same, not the ones between Yamapi and Kame but the ones between Yamapi and Jin, understood in the very beginning when Jin consented to be a prize in a bet that he had nothing to do with.

Kame sticks around for awhile, talking shop while Jin makes dinner and Yamapi is convinced that Kame will leave with a few extra pounds. They watch a samurai movie that Kame finds fascinating and Jin finds boring, and Yamapi shakes his head at the realization that there is no compromise between these two and resigns himself to halfway paying attention while playing with the sleeping Jin’s hair in his lap. He considers reneging his original invitation to stay the night, but luckily Kame stands up and excuses himself first.

He gets no argument. Yamapi lays Jin carefully on the couch as he walks Kame to the door, handing him his coat and thinking about what to say. There isn’t a list of appropriate phrases for saying goodbye to someone with whom you just had a threesome, dinner, and a movie.

Kame, however, always knows what to say. “Congratulations on your successful drama,” he says clearly, offering a rare smile. “I may have gotten better ratings last night, but I think we both know who the real winner is here.”

Yamapi’s eyes naturally turn to the sleeping form on his couch. He certainly does.

> **Week Ten – SP**

Yamapi sits in his special seat, watching proudly as Jin claims the entire stage as his own and only messes up the lyrics once. He has a great attitude, laughing at himself and being friendly to his audience, showing them the things he loves about being a performer even if he doesn’t always say the right things.

Jin knows he’s there, coordinated the MC with him this morning over breakfast, the anticipated payback for Jin showing up to Yamapi’s solo concert so long ago. Yamapi can tell Jin is thinking about him because he reaches for his armband every now and then, tugs it a little in a motion that would go unnoticed by anyone who wasn’t actively looking for it. Each time he does it, Yamapi feels a pleased tingle in his groin.

It’s kind of obvious in Yamapi’s opinion, but oddly no one has raised much of a fuss about it yet. The common rumor is that Jin got an inappropriate tattoo, maybe the naked lady that used to hang from his chain, while others think he’s supporting some cause or another. Their friends think it’s just a trend and don’t pay much attention to it, except the other day when Jin wore a brown shirt and Massu helpfully informed him that he clashed a little bit.

Neither of them are too worried. If it gets suspicious, they’ll just get something else. A wristband, an anklet, even a heavy chain that will weigh around his neck; it doesn’t matter _what_ it is as long as it is given to Jin with the same meaning, something physical he can feel at all times. Yamapi has put the collar away until the tour is over, with the promise of its return upon a successful run.

It may just be his wishful thinking, but Jin seems to be working a little harder than before.

He strides up to the stage, the crowd’s cheer pushed to the back of his mind when he sees Jin’s smile. He’s so _proud_ – of his concert, of his hard work, but most of all that he gets to show off for Yamapi. Yamapi can see it in his eyes, even the most critical person would notice how Jin’s face lights up when he’s joined on stage. What they wouldn’t see is that he’s clutching his armband while holding the mic to his mouth.

“You forgot the lyrics to Murasaki,” Yamapi chides him, setting his serious face.

Jin laughs. “Yes, well, sorry about that.”

“I don’t even _know_ the lyrics to Murasaki,” Yamapi goes on. “I wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t pulled the mic away and laughed.”

“Ah, about that…” Jin trails off, scratching his head nervously. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying ‘I’m sorry!'” Yamapi booms, and he almost cracks.

Jin just laughs at him. “What do you want me to say?”

“‘I’ll do better next time’,” Yamapi answers. “‘I’ll work harder to remember the lyrics’. ‘I won’t call attention to the fact I messed up like an idiot’.”

Jin’s tongue darts out to lick his lips, then he grins. “I’ll do my best!”

Shaking his head, Yamapi looks out to his audience. “I apologize for him. He should be more remorseful for disappointing you like that.”

“Not disappointing,” Jin tells him, then turns to the crowd. “I’m not disappointing you all tonight, right?”

They all scream, and Jin gives Yamapi a smug look. “Seems like the only one I’m disappointing is _you_.”

Yamapi folds his arms in dissatisfaction. “Are you okay with that?”

A series of emotions flash on Jin’s face, first and foremost because it’s the evening show on a Saturday. Yamapi sees a flicker of confusion, then understanding, then a fierce reminder of where he is as he almost jerks in response. “Maybe you should lower your standards,” is all he says. “We can’t all be perfect.”

“Perfection is subjective,” Yamapi says, and Jin hides a snort. “But even if they say they’re not disappointed, you should still make it up to them.”

Jin smirks. “And you.”

“And me,” Yamapi admits, struggling to keep his straight face over the whoops and cheers. Someone even screams ‘Eternal!’ and Yamapi finally lets out a laugh. “I think they’re onto us.”

“That’s because my fans are smart,” Jin tells him boldly, and the audience loudly approves.

Yamapi just shakes his head as the melody starts, the pretty piano accompaniment that Jin put together. The lyrics are cute and cheesy but so are they, the words that came from Jin’s heart floating into Yamapi’s as they sing together, just like last time. It wasn’t written for him but he can pretend, sensing Jin close to him since he can’t look at him, he doesn’t dare. He does well enough not to shiver from Jin’s sweet voice caressing the notes and adding more feeling to the words, declaring his love in front of a theater full of people who don’t know any better.

And Yamapi sings it back, the melody and harmony coming easier than any of his own solo songs. He thinks it’s because of Jin, how their voices intertwine as they sing together, just like their fingers will intertwine later, long after the final encore. Yamapi doesn’t see himself giving orders tonight, although Jin will probably want to wear his collar after all of this teasing, being in the same room with Yamapi for so long and not being allowed to touch him. Yamapi feels the pull too, already planning to hold Jin as close as possible when they get home and all through the night.

For now he just puts his feelings into his work, combining the two in a rare opportunity to have both at the same time. He glances towards Jin just before the final chorus, looking to him for the cue to start singing, his eyes dropping to the armband and how Jin can’t keep his hand off it. It makes Yamapi think he’s reaching for _him_ and it’s kind of sad, that he has to reach when Yamapi’s right there.

In due time. Someday they’ll be old and less shiny to the adoring public, cast aside while younger, fresher guys take their place in fangirls’ hearts. Sometimes Yamapi thinks he works for that day, doing his best to be remembered as Johnny’s Golden Boy Yamapi only to be forgotten as Yamashita Tomohisa, the man who’s crazy in love with his best friend, Akanishi Jin.

For now, they have their song. It’s not much on the surface, but neither is a cheap black armband. Their love, their trust, eternally.


End file.
